Although Devon continues to enjoy and explore his new relationship with Conner,
the tensions between Steven Caine’s group and Eden Stranton’s office threaten to
disturb the otherwise peaceful daily operations on the ship.

Devon also continues to deal with his best friends – Reid is working for
security force, and Patrick is undercover with Steven’s group. The two boys
still believe they can work to resolve the differences on the ship, but the
recent revelation that the information they’re passing up the chain of command
makes both uncomfortable with the idea there might be a mole in their midst.

Space Ship Boys

Chapter 18 – The Approach

“It must be pretty fucking small,” I remark, squinting.

Conner sighs. “It’s not that small...look right there. No, get up on your knees
a little higher. There...no, over...stop squirming so much!”

My protest may be a little overly dramatic, but Conner really was making my
undies to jam uncomfortably into my rear. All this just to catch a sneak peek at
EV1985? Whatever.

“Ok, fine,” he grumbles. “I’ll let you down.”

Somehow, we’d ended up in a ridiculous position. Conner had brought me to the
rear observation deck, insisting that EV1985 was now close enough to see with
the naked eye. Unfortunately, the other ship was still far away, mostly black in
the inky darkness of space, and way off to our starboard side, so that Conner
had to hoist me up, smushing me against the very last glass window on the deck,
just to catch a glimpse of the other ship. It hadn’t worked so well.

“Whew, that was an ordeal,” I laugh, shaking my head. I’m a little dizzy.

Conner looks disappointed. “We should be able to see better tomorrow. They’re on
a slow approach, but the docking is close – we should be able to see them better
soon.”

I sit down on the window seat, looking out at the massive void. I suppose Conner
is right – there’s something cool about being able to look out these windows and
see something. “It’s okay,” I say. “For now, just sitting here looking at the
stars shimmering away...that’s enough.”

Conner places a hand on my shoulder. “Um, Devon? You know that stars don’t
shimmer unless you’re viewing them through an atmosphere, right?”

I look up at my boyfriend. “I was wondering...do you think you’ll want to fuck
me later? Like really slow until we’re both dying to climax?”

Conner smiles and turns a little red. I love that he’s still shy about talk like
this. He giggles and stutters, and then says, “Yeah...that sounds pretty good to
me.”

I look back out the window. “Then I say those stars out there are pretty
shimmery.”

Conner gets the message. “Yeah, ha ha. I think so too.”

I stand up, and then pull Conner closer to me, feeling particularly close to him
because of where we’re standing – the room where we first got together. I kiss
him, making him sigh into my mouth. I feel his body relax as my tongue grazes
his lip. When I release him I gaze into his kind green eyes, always full of fire
and shy intelligence.

“That’s my boy,” I say, smiling slyly.

With December came lighter moods, or so it seemed. People on the ship seemed
happier, despite the fact that there was no real movement in the investigation
about the fire. The military had determined that incendiary charges had been
used, so it was definitely an act of arson. But analysis of the video
surveillance turned up nothing, and there were no viable suspects. Still, things
had been relatively quiet, and while everyone was wary, people were generally a
little happier and the conversations lighter.

My mood was always pretty light, largely because of Conner. He and I were
together at every opportunity, and when our schedules pulled us apart, which
frequently happened, I’d resurface from “boyfriend land” and spend some time
with my other friends.

On Friday, Conner drags my ass out of bed at five a.m., looking a little like a
kid on Christmas morning. He’s already dressed in a pair of baggy blue workout
shorts and grey tee; a rolled up mat is slung over his shoulder.

“They open the yoga farm?” I ask, my blue bangs sticking every which way. Conner
nods and pulls the sheets off my body. The cold air is shocking and unwelcome
against my skin.

“C’mon, we’re going to be late! I need you flexible, especially with what I have
planned later.” He’s tugging on my arm lightly, apparently hoping this will
motivate me to get up. I guess it works, because fifteen minutes later we’re
headed to the farm where Conner hosts his morning exercises.

Yoga is relaxing, even at this ungodly hour. Dog has somehow managed to drag
Sean along, who is looking about as caffeine-deprived and cranky as I feel. It’s
his first time at yoga, but he does well. When his boyfriend prances off with
him after practice looking a little flush and horny, I get the feeling Sean is
about to learn what the big deal is with yoga.

Ian walks out with Conner and me. “You guys mind if we go by the observation
deck?” Conner asks. Ian shakes his head, and I inwardly groan. Conner is really
into this whole docking thing.

When we arrive at the deck, I’m somewhat surprised to see fifteen or twenty
people milling about, most of them looking out the windows to the starboard of
the ship. Conner joins them, and when he apparently locates the other ship he
smiles, saying, “There! See, Devon? Over in that corner? That’s it!”

I’d had a good time at yoga, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t my normal sarcastic
self. I yawn. “Yeah, great. Grey dot on a black background. Awesome.”

Ian chuckles. “You’re such a tool.” It isn’t meant to be mean, and I don’t take
it as such.

“Well I think it’s cool,” Conner says.

We stare at the little grey dot, which is either EV1985 drawing ever closer or a
piece of lint on the window. Ian turns to us and asks, “You guys off work for
the summit? I’m not – lame.”

The summit, as it was being called, was what everyone was currently talking
about, and why ninety-five percent of the ship’s population had the day off. Ian
apparently wasn’t one of them, but Conner and I were.

Following the fire on the wheat farm, Steven Caine had been investigated
thoroughly. There was no evidence to connect him to the farm, nor anyone in his
growing political movement. But this didn’t mean there wasn’t an obvious
connection – Steven was stirring up angst, and it seemed clear that this had
resulted in the fire whether he was involved or not, although I still suspected
that he had been.

Regardless, in response to the friction on the ship Eden had made a proposal –
he and Steven would sit down and discuss things. There were no promises and no
guarantees made, but Eden said that he believed this to be an important first
step in stabilizing things. To many people’s surprise, Steven agreed to the
talks. His only caveat was that his meeting with Eden needed to be televised,
something that Eden immediately accepted as a good idea.

Once the summit was announced, the tension on the ship seemed to morph into
anticipation. I look at my watch – Eden and Steven’s meeting is scheduled for
this afternoon. In only a few hours we may know whether to expect things on the
ship to get better or worse.

“Yeah, Conner and I both got off today,” I answer; Ian immediately snickers at
my phrasing. “I mean...er...we don’t have to go in. A bunch of the guys are
getting together to watch. Too bad you have to work.”

Ian sits down on the window seat where Conner and I first fucked. For no
particular reason it makes me a little uncomfortable. He says, “Yeah, it would
have been nice to get today off. But I’ll see most of the talks in the hospital.
We just released our last patient from the fire, and things are slow.”

That afternoon everyone gathers in the unoccupied flat a couple of hours earlier
than our usual Friday time. When Conner and I arrive, Charlie has set Mike, AJ,
Nick, Sean and Dog to work cleaning up a mess they’d made in the club room the
night of AJ’s birthday party.

“I mean all the paint. Clean it all up this time,” he says in his best demanding
voice. He’s standing in the doorway to the club room – I assume enforcing his
iron will on the group.

I plop down on a couch next to Zane, who’s drinking a beer. “I didn’t make the
mess for once, so I’m off the hook for cleanup duty,” he explains.

I laugh. “I’m sure there’s a stain or two in there you’re responsible for.” He
responds by tossing a pillow at me; I duck and it soars over my head, hitting
Charlie in the back of his.

“Hey!” he exclaims. “If you two start, I’m going to put you to work too.”

I look around – the flat is actually clean for once. The clothes and
miscellaneous things we left lying around are put away, and the floor is swept.
Apparently the paint war in the club room had pushed Charlie over the edge and
initiated a flat-wide cleaning effort.

“Where do you want the food?” Conner asks, standing in the middle of the living
room with two large parcels under his arms. Oops, I’d forgotten he was carrying
those.

I get up and take one from him. “Let’s reheat them now, then they should be
perfect for dinner.” The televised summit is scheduled for seven, so Zane and I
figured we’d make dinner for the guys. I’d gone with a simple dish – pumpkin
gnocchi with crispy sage and pancetta. And yes, I was very aware that the
pumpkin themed food was going to score me some sex later. Zane made dessert, but
I wasn’t sure what he’d decided on.

Conner and I put the dinner in the heating unit and return to the living room.
Charlie, apparently satisfied with the condition of the club room, is corralling
the helpers toward the showers, demanding that they wash up quickly so that
they’ll be fresh and clean when the event starts.

“Wow...I guess you’re den mother now,” I joke.

Charlie tries not to smile at this, but does. “Whatever. Maybe I’ve been
spending too much time with the scrubs. Either way, this place was getting
messier than their flat, and that’s pretty bad.”

Charlie’s cleaning troupe emerges from the showers in towels. AJ is blushing
furiously and sporting a tent, causing Zane and I to flash the boy a quizzical
look. Zane offers Conner a beer and he accepts. I decline, saying I’d rather
have a raspberry mango mojito. “Dude, you drink the silliest stuff,” Zane says.

Conner sips his beer. “So, what are you guys going to do tonight?” he asks Zane,
meaning after the summit ends.

Zane shrugs. “The same thing we do every night, Pinky. We’re going to try to
take over the world.” Conner offers a blank expression, not getting the
reference. Zane adds, “Oh wait, that’s someone else. I think we’re going to have
lots and lots of boy sex.”

Conner offers an unenthusiastic “Oh.” before saying he wants to check on the
food and heading back to the kitchenette. I follow him, sensing a change in his
demeanor.

“Everything okay?” I ask in the privacy of the small kitchen nook in the rear of
the flat.

Conner starts pulling the food out of the heating unit. We’d packaged everything
in individual serving cartons already; he places these in a row on a tray.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, not offering any real insight into his mood. I pinch
his side playfully, but forcibly. “Ow!” he yelps. “Ok, ok, ha ha, stop that. I’m
okay...I knew we’d be hanging out with your friends this evening, it just didn’t
really dawn on me until now that it meant all your...you know...special
friends.”

I feel a sickly bit of something down in my tummy. “Okay,” I say slowly. I
really want Conner to get along with my friends, so I measure my words
carefully. “We don’t have to hang out with them. And any time you start to feel
like our arrangement isn’t working...just tell me.”

Conner stops what he’s doing and looks confused, then he gets what I’m saying.
“No, it’s not that. Sheesh, it’s not that at all. To be honest, knowing that
you’ll be...taken care of when I’m busy is reassuring. And the idea of you
fooling around with those guys is sexy, as long as there’s no penetration. We
said no penetration, right?”

The look he’s giving me tells me that he knows full well the terms of our golden
gate agreement, which allows for extracurricular play short of penetration. But
his mentioning it, although done in a joking manner, reinforces his
expectations.

“Yup, no penetration,” I answer. “I never did that with any of them anyway, and
I wouldn’t, even if you and I weren’t boyfriends.” I’m not sure this last part
is true – I’d never fucked or been fucked by any of the guys, but that didn’t
mean I wouldn’t have eventually tried it. But Conner looks reassured by the
comment.

“Anyway,” he says, “it’s not that. Just when Zane mentioned sex...they are going
to behave tonight, right? I mean...at least until the summit is over?”

I laugh. You’d think Conner’s worst nightmare was being assaulted by eight horny
boys. “Yes, they’ll behave. Since our last...incident, we set some rules. Naked
games in the bedrooms only, no bringing people here without full disclosure
first, plus some others. We call them our ‘Conner rules.’”

“Great,” my boyfriend sighs. “I’m such a prude I had to have a whole set of
rules named for me.”

I give him a hug, and then pick up the tray of food. “Not at all. It’s just – I
nearly wrecked our friendship when I invited you here without telling you
everything. In another world, maybe we never got together after that. It made me
think...and the other guys too. We’re all a little more mature now.”

Conner arches an eyebrow. “Mature about how you go about getting boys to
participate in sex games and mutual masturbation, you mean.”

“Exactly,” I say, flashing a wide smile before prancing out of the kitchenette
with my butt in full “Devon waggle” mode.

When it’s nearly seven I pass out the food and everyone claims a spot. Zane
turns on the display, revealing the smiling face of Eden Stranton on the screen.
He’s seated next to Steven Caine, a small side table with two glasses sitting
between them. Both boys are slightly dressed up.

“Good evening,” he says. “You’re all aware why we’re broadcasting today, so I’ll
begin by briefly discussing what we hope to accomplish at today’s meeting. I
would also mention that I went over these comments with Steven beforehand, and
they have been agreed upon by both of us.

“We are living in a unique situation at a unique time. The vessel that we
currently occupy is much more than just a ship – it’s a lifeboat, and a
community. It is sovereign U.S. soil. It’s a military base, and a thriving co-op
of farms. And above all, it’s a biosphere, one that is capable of sustaining the
human, animal and plant population for years to come.

“But for the ship to meet our needs we must have a stable, functioning society.
We cannot have unrest, and we cannot have resources wasted or destroyed. To
tolerate this would put us all at risk, and that is not acceptable – neither to
me nor to Steven.

“After both the riot in The Commons and the fire, I spoke with Steven, both in
the capacity of mayor and commander of the security force, and then later
as...well, as just a guy on the ship. In speaking with him, I came to believe
that while our political views may be different, the welfare of the ship and its
passengers is forefront in our minds.

“Furthermore, it is my belief that Steven Caine is being truthful when he says
that he didn’t have anything to do with the fires, and I believe him when he
says that the riot in The Commons was not intentional. As a first gesture of
goodwill, I wanted to make this clear to all of you, and I wanted to apologize
to Steven for the incarceration that occurred following the fire. I also would
like to thank him for agreeing to this meeting.”

Eden looks over to Steven and extends his hand. Steven nods, standing and
accepting the mayor’s gesture. “Thank you, Eden. I appreciate that. And I
appreciate you having me here today.”

“This is a huge mistake,” Conner says next to me. He takes the cover off his
plate and eyes the pasta hungrily. “This looks great, Devon,” he whispers.

“What’s a mistake?” Mike asks on the other side of Conner.

Conner takes a bite and then swallows it. “Wow, this is so good,” he says. “It’s
a mistake for Eden to appear with Steven like this. The talks are a good idea,
but look at them – Steven is presenting himself as a legitimate voice of
authority on the ship. It makes him seem like a political opponent more than a
troublemaker.”

“That’s really true,” Zane replies thoughtfully.

Conner’s opinion seems even more astute when Steven makes his opening remarks.
After apologizing for any trouble caused by the riot and the later fire, he lays
out what he wants to accomplish through the talks. “As Eden said,” he continues,
“there needs to be a thriving, functioning community on the ship. It is my hope
that these talks will bring us closer to this.”

The two leaders sit down and Eden picks up a tablet, glancing over some
information before speaking. When he does, he looks to Steven and says, “Okay,
so let’s begin.”

The two leaders speak about a variety of subjects, ranging from moderately
important to slightly inconsequential. Regardless, Eden listens to Steven’s
opinion on each, weighing in from time to time and asking questions when
necessary. They first talk about room assignments.

“I think what a lot of us are upset about,” Steven says, “is the manner in which
we’re packed into the flats while floor upon floor remain vacant. This makes
little sense to me, and to a lot of my supporters.”

Eden shifts in his seat. “I understand what you’re saying,” he replies. “When we
first occupied the ship, there was no civilian government and little crew
oversight regarding accommodations. As a result, the initial flat assignments
were random, but I think they generally favored the older students from the
college...and that’s largely your group, Steven, who by and large took the more
favorable rooms in Bottomside.

“Shortly thereafter, the crew stepped in, and while they didn’t move us around
too much, they did increase the population density on a per room basis. This was
done so that we could establish a viable biosphere on the ship, although I
should mention that the crew did override the standard protocols, which require
six to eight adults per bedroom, allowing us the lower density of four to five
per room.

“We currently occupy about eleven hundred rooms in two hundred thirty flats. We
have an average per room residency of just under five persons. As you know, the
individual bedrooms are designed to house eight as a ‘standard load,’ but
they’re capable of housing ten or twelve if required.

“There are about six hundred empty rooms in...let me look it up here...one
hundred sixteen unused flats – please keep in mind I’m rounding these numbers
off. We’ll make exact figures available in the post-summit notes. Anyway, in
addition to these rooms, which are ready for immediate occupation, we have the
capability of converting space onto the ship into another hundred or so flats.

“To stick to the point, housing is something my office has been working on for a
couple of months now, and it’s something that the entire population should have
an equal voice in. But before we start reassigning rooms on a large scale, I do
need to announce something that will impact any proposed changes.

“As you all know, we will soon be docking with EV1985. We’ll be docked for
several weeks, during which time we’ll be trading resources. A big part of this
will be offloading some of our excess oxygen – you guys really go bonkers on the
farming, which is great – this will enable us to supply the other ship, which
has had difficulty maintaining an ideal atmosphere.

“I’ve just in the last day been made aware that there is another reason for the
docking – we will also take on additional population. I don’t have specific
numbers or information yet, but what I do know is that the other ship is vastly
overcrowded. We will be helping them with that, and I’m afraid this all falls
under the purview of the captains and the larger governing bodies...I’m not
really ‘in the loop’ at this point in time. But with the other ship only a
couple of days away, we should be getting info on that soon, and I’ll distribute
it to you as soon as I have any news.

“So anyway, my point is that, yes, we’ll look at any room assignment plan you
bring to us, Steven, but it probably makes sense to do this once we have an idea
of the total post-dock population. And I’ll even go one better for you...instead
of just having my office ‘look’ at any feasible proposals, I’ll be happy to put
it up for a general vote. So long as the crew says it won’t endanger safety, I
think we’re at a point where we can move to a more democratic model.”

Steven responds by thanking Eden and making a few comments, but we largely
ignore him, talking amongst ourselves.

“Wow, new passengers,” Sean says.

Dog nods. “Yeah. That’s big news,” he says. “I wonder how many people they’ll
transfer...and what they’ll be like.”

“They probably won’t be college guys,” Charlie points out. Everyone gets what
he’s saying at the same time. We’d enjoyed our little college microcosm for so
long that most of had forgotten that the world at large was considerably more
diverse.

“They’re not,” Conner says. Something in his tone tells us that he isn’t just
speaking from conjecture. Mike asks him what he knows, and when he refuses to
say anything he falls prey to a quick round of “tickle torture.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. “Jeez, I’ll talk.” On screen Steven is going over some
of his other residency concerns, but we’re all attentive to Conner. “It’s not
confidential anyway...I was going to tell you guys later. Yesterday I started
getting medical files from the other ship. Some were for me to go through and
note which medical supplies should be moved over during the docking, others were
for me to put in our resident files. I was told these were for people who were
coming to live here.”

“Wow,” AJ says. “And? Who are they?”

Conner shakes his head. “I can’t tell you any of their private info or anything
– confidentiality and all. But I can say they aren’t college guys. A lot of them
aren’t even American – I got a lot of files for French nationals.”

Charlie’s eyes light up. “French boys are cute,” he says. Somehow I get the
notion that Conner could have said any nationality and Charlie would have
responded that their boys were cute...but I guess we have no way of testing
that.

Conner shakes his head. “No. I got about a hundred files for future residents,
but these may not be all the files we get. Also, only people who need us to
review a medical condition...things like wheat allergies and all that...will
even have files sent in advance, so that we can be ready for them. Anyone
without a medical condition that needs my review will have their records
transferred when they physically come over.”

“And now we come to work assignments,” Eden says on screen. “This is something I
know lies at the heart of many of your issues, Steven, so let’s get into these.
We have ninety minutes set aside for this, so let’s see if we can’t make some
progress.”

We turn our attention back to the talks. Steven outlines seven points of concern
with the way jobs on the ship are currently handled. “Overall,” he says once
he’s addressed each, “I think the core issue here is the practice of assigning
tasks randomly, not according to capability. Most of us were students before
leaving Earth, so while we didn’t have jobs exactly, we did have areas of study.
I think a lot of us would like to see this reflected in career assignments.”

Eden chuckles, which draws an immediate suspicious glare from Steven. “I’m
sorry,” he says. “I was just wondering how my studies in international finance,
or your studies in marketing, would be used on the ship.”

“Well, I’m not saying that there are exact parallels, but...” Steven starts.

Eden cuts him off. “That’s the problem, Steven...there aren’t exact parallels.
There aren’t even slight parallels. The careers we were preparing for were left
on Earth. Back home, something like three one-thousandths of one percent of the
population worked in agriculture, which was a largely mechanized industry. Here
on the ship, about half the jobs relate to growing and processing food.

“So we hit a snag. You’d like for people to be assigned work that pertains to
their former studies. The problem is, no one on this ship was studying to become
a farmer...or learning to clean dangerous mold from ventilation tunnels, but
these are the jobs we need to fill. This is our new reality, and we all bear the
responsibility of adapting to this.”

Steven is quick to respond. “We understand this – we really do. The idea of
working together is important to me. But I have guys come to me all the time –
some of them have eight, ten, even twelve hours of shit detail assigned to them
in a day. We understand that these duties are important, but how is this fair?
Some people get out of shit detail all together, did you know that?”

Eden rolls his eyes. “I did, Steven, as you know. And we’ve talked about this.
Essential personnel aren’t always assigned secondary detail. My roommate is a
good example. As one of the few doctors on the ship, we want him learning his
craft. And I’ll tell you, he puts in more hours than anyone I know.”

“Great,” Conner says, sounding a little annoyed at being mentioned, even if not
by name.

Eden continues, “So the agreement I can make today is that we’re willing to look
at any work assignments on an individual basis, and I can provide a list of
skill sets we really need for anyone out there who’s interested – but I can tell
you that if you’re willing to go through medical school or learn to design and
maintain fusion power generators, you’re going to have better luck getting out
of shit detail. For work assignments on the whole, we’re also willing to put a
new system up for vote if you have something in mind...but shoving all of the
shit detail off onto a minority of the population is not something we’re going
to be willing to do.”

The two guys talk a little more about work assignments, and about the problems
Steven’s group has with the current system. And then they move one to the topic
of the security force. Zane disappears for a few minutes, and when he returns
he’s carrying a tray of dessert dishes. The smell of cinnamon wafts into the
room behind him.

“Dessert – if anyone wants any,” he says. We all grab a plate – he’s made
individual apple crisps with vanilla ice cream. They look great and we all tell
him so. He smiles politely and wanders back to the kitchenette for spoons, which
he’d forgotten.

“If we can talk about your army for a moment....” Steven starts.

“...police force,” Eden corrects him politely.

Steven’s frustration is evident in his reply. “Well, what you call a police
force I call an army. And either way...an armed guard of any kind is prohibited
from being centralized in the civilian sections of the ship. This has been one
of our major concerns from day one, and it’s at the heart of why there is so
much discontent.”

The discussion is now more fervent, both men slightly agitated and resolved in
their positions. “You know the law as well as I do, Steven. A police force is
allowed, particularly when events demonstrate that one is needed. And here we
run into a problem – you and your guys are upset about the security force, but
us forming one and growing it has been a direct result of your actions.”

“Is that supposed to make us feel less threatened?” Steven snaps. “Telling us
that the security force is around just to police us...to spy on us?”

I think about Patrick, who is in fact spying on Steven for the security force. I
feel a tingling of dread – did Steven suspect that there were people amongst his
supposed followers passing info to Eden? Did he suspect Patrick specifically?

Eden scratches his head and then replies, speaking in a calmer tone with more
measured words. “Steven, let’s be reasonable here. The security force isn’t
around to spy on anyone. This is a big ship, and there are sometimes incidents.
Usually it’s small stuff, like ‘someone stole my peanut butter,’ but sometimes
there are bigger issues. We need law enforcement, and I’m sorry to say that your
activities...the protests and demonstrations...these necessitate a larger force.

“And we also have the fire to contend with. Now I know I said you were cleared
of any involvement with that, and I’ll reiterate that right now to everyone
watching – Steven and his group had nothing to do with the fires. But this does
not change the fact that someone placed incendiary devices in an area
responsible for growing our food. The use of these not only threatened the crop
planted at the time, but also the lives of anyone who might have been in the
area when the charges went off. The security force is necessary to stop events
like this from happening, and investigating them when they do in order to bring
the perpetrators to justice.”

Steven shakes his head. “This still doesn’t make it legal, Eden. No police force
is to be headquartered in the civilian sectors. This is the law – you can’t
dispute that fact.”

“This is true...technically,” Eden replies. “The law allows for a security
force, and it also states that such a force should be headquartered in the
military sector, even if it’s made up of civilians. In most cases, a ship’s
security force would be assembled from the crew. But on this ship, which was
manned with a very small permanent crew, they don’t have the personnel to spare.
So we assigned civilians, and we stationed them in Topside, near my offices.”

“Which is in direct violation of the law,” Steven comments smugly.

“Yes,” Eden agrees thoughtfully. “The rules do state that any police force
should be stationed in the military sectors, so...one floor above me. I have to
ask, Steven, does this really matter? Does it make a difference whether security
force is located on the base or next to my office? We need to have one, either
way.”

“It’s a huge deal,” Steven says emphatically. “It may just be one floor, but
that line is a symbol of an unacceptable encroachment on our rights. We’re here
today because we both want order on this ship. I can try to put a stop to the
protests and the demonstrations, but to do that we need to establish a system
that is fair and just. Laws need to be obeyed...even if it’s just a matter of
room assignments.”

“I’ll see what I can do about moving them upstairs, then,” Eden says curtly.
“But I want to be clear – they’re here to stay.”

The two continue the discussion, speaking and debating on a range of issues.
Steven gets to air his complaints publicly, and Eden gets to respond. The mayor
offers concessions on many things, in some cases agreeing that Steven’s ideas
are good. Others he says he’ll be looking into, and still others he suggests
would be best handled through a ship-wide vote. But then on some he stands firm.

The summit runs about four hours. Once everything on the agenda has been
discussed and debated, they wrap up with closing comments. Both Eden and Steven
look tired, but also like they’ve found some common ground. I can’t speak for
everyone in the room, but I feel a certain sense of...something feels lighter,
like maybe progress has been made.

Once Eden signs off and our display has gone back to the ship wide announcements
that continuously scroll when the channel isn’t in use, I find myself a little
glad. I’m hopeful that these talks will help things get better, but politics are
really, really boring, and I’m hoping not to have to sit through too many four
hour debates.

“So, what did you think?” I ask Conner, sounding a little groggy. My ass is sore
from sitting on the couch for so long.

He looks at the pile of empty dishes on the coffee table. “It was great...but I
always like your cooking.”

I laugh at the way Conner shifts my question about the summit into a compliment
about my cooking. He’s such a good boyfriend, but I have to razz him about this
one. “And you thought Steven was being political,” I say.

Mike stands and stretches, looking about as bored as I am. Charlie stands and
rubs Mike’s shoulders, which makes him sigh.

“Hey, where’s Zane?” Dog asks. No one had seen him since dessert.

“Must be in the club room,” Nick yawns.

Almost as if on autopilot, the group migrates there and Conner follows. I
hesitate for a moment, remembering the scene Conner had stumbled onto the last
time I’d brought him here. And then I realize that Zane had been gone for a
really long time...crap. I rush to the room, half expecting him to be completely
naked, lying on a bed with a red ribbon tied around his cock.

He’s not, though. I find him typing away on one of the terminals, looking
slightly annoyed. The other guys take seats in the recessed area we’d assembled.
Conner starts up a conversation with Sean and Dog about working on the farms,
asking questions about some of Steven’s comments.

The club room is really clean; the guys did a good job clearing up the paint. A
purple smudge on the ceiling in the far corner of the room is the only evidence
I see of the former mess.

I walk over to where Zane is seated. “What are you up to?” I ask.

“Hey,” he says. He doesn’t look up from the screen, nor does he stop typing. “I
just wanted to e-mail some friends about the summit. You know...check in, see
what people thought. I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Okay,” I reply, not really interested in more political talk. I walk over to
where Conner is seated and plop down next to him. He’s entered into a rather
spirited discussion with Charlie, Sean and Dog about the evening’s events. Great
– more politics.

The four boys don’t notice when I offer a laborious sigh, which I mean to be a
sign that I’d like to talk about something else. When a second annoyed sigh
garners no reaction other than an annoyed glance from Conner, I move to the
other side of the horseshoe shaped seating area.

“Well you have no one to blame but yourself,” Mike is saying to Nick.

The other boy looks defensive. “What? It’s not my fault I drew double shifts all
week.” Nick explains that long days have left him rather sore. I think we’re all
a little dubious as to how true this is, but Mike takes the bait.

Mike and AJ rub the boy’s back for a few minutes, starting with lighter,
feathery strokes and then moving on to a firmer massage. “Whoa, you really are
tense!” Mike exclaims. “Hey Devon, come here and feel this.”

Doing yoga with Conner had gotten me interested in massage. I’d pulled up a
bunch of instructional books and videos from the library, and Mike had been one
of my first test subjects. I move over to where Nick is lying. Mike takes my
hand and directs it to a spot just below the boy’s left shoulder blade. I
immediately feel what Mike is talking about – there’s a massive knot in the
muscle there.

“Holy crap Nick. What the hell did you do to your shoulder?” I ask.

He grunts when I press the knot firmly. “Don’t know,” he replies. “I guess I
lifted too much. That kinda hurts,” he says about my probing.

“Sorry. You’re all messed up right here. It needs to be worked out, but gently.”

Mike puts his hand next to mine on Nick’s back. The skin is smooth and warm to
the touch. Nick has significantly more muscle than Mike, I notice, but his back
isn’t quite as developed as Conner, who had great shoulders from years of
swimming.

“How do we fix him?” Mike asks.

I hesitate. I’m only a novice masseur and I have very little experience. I know
that a bad massage can make something like this worse, and I don’t want to do
that. Still, I think I know what will help.

“Ok, let’s try this,” I say. “We want to work out the knot, but we don’t want to
use too much direct pressure. Here, give me your hand.” Mike does as I request,
and I place his hand palm down on Nick’s lower back. “Press down firmly, but not
too hard. Using the heel of your hand, follow the curve of his back and push up
all the way to his shoulder.”

I demonstrate the recommended stroke, guiding Mike’s hand. Nick grunts when we
rub the sore area, but it doesn’t seem to hurt him. “I think I got it,” Mike
says.

“I’ll do the other side,” AJ offers, smiling at me. His gaze is intense, full of
curiosity and fire. I wonder if he’s thinking more about the massage or fucking
Nick, something I’d heard had happened recently. As if he can read my mind, AJ
blushes and looks away, which makes me feel a little shy too. The idea of AJ
participating in the club is still a little new to me. He’d been hanging out
with the guys for a month now, but he’d been absent the few times I’d
participated since I’d started dating Conner.

Mike and AJ take to stroking Nick’s back, the third boy sighing in approval at
having two dedicated masseurs working on him. Mike proclaims that it’s a little
hot in the room and pulls off his shirt, and then returns to rubbing Nick’s
back.

I’m conscientious of the intimacy of the scene, especially with Conner sitting
two meters away. I rejoin the other group, leaving Nick in Mike and AJ’s capable
hands.

“He doesn’t have the worst ideas in the world,” Sean is saying. “I mean, yeah
he’s a total asshole...but some of what he says is probably right.” From the
context, I assume he’s speaking about Steven.

“Well I don’t trust him,” Dog says. “He can dress up and talk all sophisticated,
but I don’t buy that the riots weren’t his fault. He says they just got out of
hand, but I think that’s bullshit.”

“But the riots totally undermined him,” Sean responds. “People really turned
against him after that...you missed that, Devon, being in the hospital. If it
was going to hurt his popularity like that, why would he plan something like the
riot?”

“Unless he didn’t know that was going to be the result,” Conner says.

“You guys are still talking about Steven?” I whine. “Can’t we stop talking about
him for a while? How about drinks? It’s Friday night.”

“I have a new crop,” AJ announces, overhearing me.

Zane pivots in his chair. “No,” he says, firm and simple. This gets everyone’s
attention. He points to Nick, AJ and Mike. “These three do not get alcohol and
pot. I think we all saw what happens when they overindulge.”

He smiles and the rest of us laugh. Mike blushes and tries to make excuses as to
why the club room had been desecrated the night of AJ’s party, but then he
agrees that he should probably be denied marijuana for a while.

“It was a great party, though,” AJ says. He pulls off his shirt before rubbing
Nick’s back some more. And then he says he’d like to work on the boy’s legs, but
proclaims Nick’s pants to be in the way. Nick raises his hips, protesting when
AJ pulls off both his jeans and underwear.

“Hey!” he exclaims.

“Sorry,” AJ replies. “I want to be thorough.”

“I’m sure,” Nick replies sarcastically.

I laugh, but then look at Conner, who’s staring at the now-naked guy. “Um...we
can go if you want,” I say. I don’t want him to be uncomfortable, but then I
don’t want to make the other guys uncomfortable by asking Conner if Nick being
naked is making him uncomfortable...and that’s making me a bit uncomfortable.
Dammit, Devon...stop saying “uncomfortable.”

Conner shakes his head. “No, I’m good. We can go in a little bit. You have
drinks?”

“Um...yeah. I think. Let me go see,” I say.

Thanks to Charlie, the flat is almost always well stocked with alcohol. He
doesn’t disappoint me tonight, and a quick survey of the kitchenette uncovers
two bottles of tequila and some margarita mix. I return to the club room with
these and a stack of cups.

“Tequila – sweet!” Sean says when I return, taking one of the bottles and
inspecting my find. We mix up some quickie margaritas and offer them to the
group. Conner takes one, as does Dog. AJ and Mike seem intent on massaging Nick,
however, who’s enjoying the attention.

I sip my drink – there’s way too much tequila in it. “Wow, these are strong,”
Dog says.

I shrug. “Sorry, I’m a better cook than bartender.”

“So this is the infamous club on a Friday night,” Conner says when I sit back
down next to him. I look around the room. It’s a pretty tame Friday by our
standards, and I tell him so.

“I think they’re all on their best behavior because you’re here,” I whisper.
Across the couch, Mike shimmies out of his pants, revealing that he’s wearing a
pair of low rise red briefs...very cute. He sits on Nick’s butt so that he can
offer the boy a deeper back massage. “Or maybe not,” I add.

Conner laughs and says that it’s okay.

Across the room, Zane makes a disgusted noise and shuts off the terminal.
Without saying anything to the rest of us, he goes back to the living room. It
makes me wonder what’s up. “Uh, I’ll be right back,” I tell Conner.

“Everything okay?” I ask when I locate Zane. He looks worried, which is odd for
the guy.

He’s packing the used dinner cartons into a small box. “Oh, hey Devon,” he says.
“I thought I’d take these up to the kitchen. Charlie’s on this ‘clean flat’
kick.”

“Zane Flynn cleaning. He must have really chewed you guys out,” I laugh. “Or is
something else the matter?” Zane seems off tonight.

He thinks about this before answering. “Yeah, I’m okay, just a little pissy I
guess.”

“About the summit?”

He shakes his head. “No. Well, yeah, maybe. How much do you know about the
docking?”

EV1985 was growing closer every day, as Conner had been sure to point out to me
at every opportunity. I tell Zane how he keeps dragging me to the observation
deck to see the approaching ship.

Zane closes the top to the box containing the dirty dishes. “They’ll be here in
a couple of days,” he explains. “Usually when ships dock you can request leave
to visit the other one. I’ve been requesting it since I heard we’d be docking,
but I just heard back that because of the problems here, they might not allow
leave except for special cases.”

There was a lot of conjecture about visiting the other ship, of course, but I
hadn’t heard anything other than rumors yet.

“You have family on the other ship?” I ask. It seemed the most plausible reason
why he’d want to visit.

“No, nothing like that,” he says, thoughtful. Then he gets a big, goofy grin.
“It’s just the other ship has about the best thing in the world...oh, shoot...I
promised Conner I wouldn’t say anything.”

This gets my attention. “Say anything about what?”

Zane laughs at me. “Nice try, dude. But forget it...I’m good about keeping all
my promises, but especially to Conner. He’d have no problem making me stand in
the middle of the lobby and jerk off forty times in a row.” This makes me grin –
Zane’s pact with Conner was kind of funny.

But still, I want to know what Zane’s talking about. I huff. Well, if Zane won’t
tell me, I have other means. “Fine, I’ll ask Conner then.”

Zane sounds very sincere when he speaks. “Dude, don’t...please. It’s not that
I’d mind jerking off forty times in the lobby – might take a while, but
whatever. Anyway, okay, so I’ll tell you one little thing, but then you have to
promise to drop it.”

I’m skeptical, but I bite, promising not to tell Conner I’d heard anything. Zane
steps closer to me and whispers, “Okay, so this is the deal. Conner is planning
something for you...sort of an early birthday present. And that’s all you should
know. Trust me – it will be better if you let him surprise you.”

“Conner is doing something for my birthday?” I ask, intrigued. A million ideas
flash through my head.

Zane gives me a weird look and then thumps me on the nose. “Dork...of course
he’s doing something for your birthday. And I see the wheels turning in there,
but do me a favor and try not to figure it out.”

“Fine,” I say. Birthday surprises are fun. I can abide by Zane’s request...I
think.

Zane picks up the box of used dishes. “Anyway, I want to take these back up to
the kitchen. Then I was thinking about going to the gym. I’m a little off
today...lifting might help.”

“But it’s Friday night,” I point out.

Zane sighs. “Yeah, I know. But I’m cranky tonight, and not really feeling very
social. Maybe I’ll stop back by later.”

Zane passing up an opportunity to get off with a room full of willing partners
is definitely not his normal behavior. When he leaves, I’m forced to wonder if
he hadn’t used the news of a birthday surprise to misdirect me from something
else.

If so, it works. I return to the club room, plopping down next to Conner, a huge
grin on my face. I offer him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“Just ‘cause,” I reply.

In my absence, the boys apparently decided to continue with the massages. AJ is
receiving a thorough rubdown from Charlie and Sean. He still has his briefs on,
but I have a feeling that won’t last long with these guys. Mike and Dog seem to
have finished up Nick’s massage, the third boy looking quite content and sleepy,
still lying face down on the couch.

“You want to go?” I ask Conner.

He shakes his head. “I don’t have work tomorrow. For once I’d just like to hang
out, drink, and not worry about getting to bed on time.”

I reach over to scratch his back – he loves this. “We can stay up all night in
our room,” I point out. “The guys are probably going to get frisky eventually.”

“They’re fine,” Conner says. “And they look pretty good at that. You guys could
open a massage parlor.”

Mike’s eyes light up. “Yeah, that would be awesome!” he laughs.

Dog agrees, and then says, “I think that was Conner’s way of asking for a
massage.”

“No, no,” Conner laughs. “I was just saying that you look good at it.”

His refusal isn’t taken seriously, and Conner finds himself approached by the
two boys, Mike in his little red briefs and Dog in a jean and hoodie combo. They
may very well be planning to pounce my boyfriend, so I shoot them both a warning
glance. I’d talked to them about Conner coming tonight, and they’d agreed to
behave.

Mike stops in his tracks. He puts on his best “unabashedly cute” routine,
balancing on one leg while running the other foot up and down his calf. In his
sweetest, most innocent voice he says, “Conner...Devon is very, very protective
of you, and he said that we had to be extra good around you. If you want to go,
that’s okay. But if not, we’d like to give you a back rub.”

He looks like an angel – an overly sexy one. Given the red briefs I suppose he
could be one, just of the fallen variety.

Dog nods. “Yeah. And we all still feel bad about the first time you came here.
But if you’re not still mad about that, Mike is right – we’d love to give you a
massage.”

I roll my eyes. Conner is a big boy, and asking his permission is well within
the rules. He looks over to where Nick is lying, the boy’s round, perfect butt
exposed to the open air of the room. “Um...I don’t know,” he says. “I’m a little
shy about getting...uh...you know....”

Mike looks at Nick and gets what Conner means. “Oh, sorry,” he says. He walks
back over to Nick, who seems to be falling asleep. Taking the other boy’s
discarded underwear, Mike places it on top of Nick’s butt, succeeding somewhat
in covering him. Then he says to Conner, “You don’t have to take off your pants.
We’ll just do your back.”

This seems like a perfectly reasonable idea to Conner. “Uh, yeah, that sounds
okay,” he says.

Mike and Dog look to me for approval before proceeding. I shrug and nod at them,
figuring that if Conner doesn’t want them playing games he’ll tell them. They
smile and make a spot for Conner on the couch. When he goes to remove his shirt,
they help him out of it, pulling it over his head and causing his sandy locks to
flop down into his eyes. “Thanks,” he says shyly, looking a little uncomfortable
at being topless.

“See, I told you he had muscles,” Dog says. “And way more than me.” Mike agrees
that this is the case and Conner blushes.

“I swam a lot,” he explains.

Mike reaches out and grazes Conner’s now-naked back with his fingertips.
“Apparently,” he says, feeling the firmness of his lats. “You have a really nice
torso.”

“Yeah, nice build,” Dog says. “I’m skinny, no matter how much I eat.” As if to
prove this statement, he pulls of his hoodie and then slips off his jeans.

“Okay, okay,” I grumble, “That’s enough with the stripping.”

Dog looks confused. “What? Mike is in his underwear.”

It may be a fair point, but I shake my head. Dog is wearing a pair of baby blue
trunks with a grey numeral ten printed on the fabric right by his right hip. I
don’t mind him being comfortable, but my attention is immediately drawn to the
fact that the underwear leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Dog’s
assets are nestled in a pouch of extremely sheer fabric; they might as well be
completely exposed.

Conner vetoes my disapproval. “He’s fine,” he says. “Nice trunks. And you’re not
that skinny. I bet we could get you a little bigger with some supplements and
the right foods – you should come by the hospital some time and we’ll put
together a nutrition plan.”

Dog beams. “That would be great!”

The boys set about massaging Conner – under my watchful eye, of course. They ask
him to remain sitting up, which isn’t the most conventional position, but allows
them to rub down his back and chest at the same time. Mike retrieves a small
bottle of massage oil and puts some on his palm before applying it to Conner’s
back.

“Oh!” Conner exclaims when the slippery oil is rubbed into his skin.

“Cold?” Mike asks.

“Um...no. It just feels really good. I didn’t realize how sore my neck was. I
guess I need to sit better when I’m at my desk.”

“Or come to us for massages more often,” Dog suggests. He takes the oil from
Mike and applies some to Conner’s chest while Mike works on Conner’s neck and
shoulders.

Across the couch Sean has followed Mike’s example and is applying oil to AJ, who
he’s stripped naked, dropping the lean boy’s blue, green and yellow low-rise
briefs onto the floor next to the couch. Sean takes the opportunity to lose his
pants too, revealing a cute pair of lime green briefs with a black stitching
pattern. AJ moans when Sean reaches the boy’s butt and massages an ample amount
of oil onto the rounded flesh.

Charlie lets Sean work on AJ and moves over to our group. “We get to massage
Conner tonight? I’ll do his feet.”

When I’d started teaching the boys massage, Charlie had quickly developed a
thing for feet. When Conner gives his permission, he slides off my boyfriend’s
shoes and then removes his socks before oiling his hands and rubbing Conner’s
feet, starting with long, firm strokes moving from heel to toe.

“Ah,” Conner sighs, enjoying the benefits of what I might term a “massage a
trois.”

Encouraged, Mike presses his palms into Conner’s back and runs his hands all the
way down, letting his fingers slide down into the waist line of my boyfriend’s
pants. I shoot him another warning glance.

“Um...Conner?” he asks.

“Yeah?”

“Devon’s giving me a nasty look again.” He applies more oil and runs his hands
up Conner’s sides.

“Oh?” Conner asks.

Mike smiles. “Yeah. It’s a particularly Devon-y look. It either means he thinks
we’re trying to seduce you, or he’s constipated.” He sticks his tongue out at
me, which Conner can’t see with Mike positioned behind him.

Conner opens his eyes. Looking at me, he asks, “Is this annoying you?”

He’s not being sarcastic – Conner is usually by default genuine. I shake my head
to indicate that I’m not upset. On the contrary, I want Conner to get along with
my friends. Watching three of them run oil-slicked hands over the naked parts of
his body – they seem to be getting along pretty damn well.

“Um...Conner?” Mike asks again.

“Yeah?” Conner laughs.

“Devon is sort of right. I mean, we’re not trying to seduce you, but we’re not
trying not to either. Can we make a deal?”

Conner offers a bashful smile, his eyes closed. “What kind of deal?”

Mike thinks for a moment and then answers, “Well...on Friday nights we usually
get a little...sexy. How about you lie back and enjoy the massage. The boys and
I won’t worry about crossing any lines, but if we do, just say ‘wait’ and we’ll
stop right away. Maybe that will help Devon relax a little.”

“He does look tense,” Charlie agrees. He moves from Conner’s feet to a position
behind me, where he runs a hand up beneath the back of my t-shirt. Looking at
how content AJ and Nick seem, it doesn’t take much convincing for me to lift my
arms and allow him to slip my shirt off. “That’s better,” he says, putting more
oil on his palm and rubbing it roughly into my back.

Sean abandons AJ and slides over to our side of the horseshoe. He pulls off my
shoes and socks and massages my feet using the same technique Charlie had on
Conner.

“I want to get your calves,” Mike says to Conner, who has a rather goofy look on
his face, clearly enjoying the attention he’s suddenly receiving. Then, when
Mike slides down off the couch and crawls between Conner’s legs, placing two
hands on the button to his jeans, Conner’s eyes go wide.

“Um....” he says, blushing.

Mike looks at me and I return a slight scowl in warning. “What?” he asks
defensively. “He didn’t say ‘wait.’”

Mike is right, he didn’t. Conner closes his eyes and leans back against the
seat, raising his hips a little in the universal boy gesture that means “Hell
yeah, take my pants off!” Mike does just this, sliding Conner’s jeans down and
off his muscular legs. “Wow, nice underwear!” he says. Conner is wearing a blue
and white plaid patterned trunk, which is really sexy on him. Well...to be
fair...everything – and nothing – is sexy on him. But Mike is right – these
trunks are especially sexy.

Conner chuckles. “You act like you’ve never seen this pattern before. You guys
made them.”

Charlie looks Conner over appreciatively. “Yeah, but they never looked this
good. I think these should be called the sexy doctor trunk from now on.” Conner
blushes at the compliment.

Sean and Charlie decide to remove my pants as well, and I let them. Conner
watches as they expose the black jock strap I’m wearing tonight. “How do you
like those?” Charlie asks. “The design was an experiment.”

He’s referring to the waistband, a strip of snugly fitting fabric that is easily
seven centimeters wide, considerably thicker than anything he’s ever made
before. “I like them,” I answer honestly. “At first I wasn’t sure, but the way
the waist is super big makes them feel really different, but cool. When I’m in
the gym, they sit really snug. They’re great for running.”

“Cool,” he says, running an oily palm up my thigh. I sigh at my friend’s touch.
Charlie, perhaps above all others, always seems able to read my mind and touches
just the part of me that is craving contact.

His touch makes my dick twinge, and when I look at Conner I see that he’s
filling his trunks out a little more too. “You okay with this?” I ask. “Because
it’s fine if you’re not – we can go.”

He sighs lightly, and for good reason. Mike has reached around him to massage
his lower abs with slick hands. “Ah...um, we can go in a little while,” he says.
“Come sit over here by me.”

When he pats a spot on the couch next to him, I scoot over. He lifts his legs up
onto the seat and pivots around to face me, directing me to face him and do the
same. We scoot closer, his legs sliding over mine until we’re in the lotus
position.

I’m sure he can tell that I’m a little nervous about this situation. Can he
blame me? Last time I invited him here...well. I force myself to relax. “I’m
fine,” I answer.

“Good.”

We find ourselves attended to by four would-be masseurs – Charlie and Sean sit
behind me, rubbing my back and Conner’s legs, where Mike and Dog continue
massaging my boyfriend.

“Do you like your scalp massaged?” Dog asks Conner. When he receives an
uncertain nod in response, Dog puts a little oil on his fingertips and then
begins working it into Conner’s hair.

“That’s going to make a huge mess,” I protest.

“Yeah...but it feels amazing,” Conner replies. I feel a sudden dampness on my
head, and then I feel Sean’s fingers running through my hair. I shift in my
seat. It feels amazing, but I’m a little protective about my hair.

“We still getting cuts this weekend?” Charlie asks, as if he’s read my mind and
knows I’m thinking about hair.

“Yeah,” I answer. We’d made plans to go together – we’re both a little shaggy.

“Hey!” Conner exclaims in surprise; the sound comes out like a surprised squeak
more than an actual word. Mike has squirted a copious amount of oil on his head,
so that it starts running down his neck and shoulders in little streams.

“Sorry, got carried away,” Mike apologizes, scooping up as much of the oil as he
can. Not really having any way of containing it, he rubs it on his own chest,
and then spreads some onto Dog.

Conner watches Sean try to wipe up some of the oil that’s trickling down his
chest. Sean giggles, and then slathers some on my chest. And then, sounding not
at all shy about it, Conner says, “You guys are going to stain your underwear
with all this oil, and they’re really nice. You should take them off.”

I’m not completely shocked by this suggestion, but almost. “What’s got into you
tonight?” I ask, trying not to giggle lest I offend him.

Conner shrugs. “Nothing much. There was that huge fire. Life is short, you
know?”

I smile and nod. I did know. After my injury, I’d come to the same conclusion,
and any fear or apprehension I felt about freely loving my friends, both
physically and emotionally, had been washed away. I feel a little bad, I’ve
never talked to Conner much about the fires. I guess the incident must have
affected him more than I realized.

He reaches over to Dog, who’s standing next to him. “Here...I’ll help,” he
offers, fingering the waist band of the lean boy’s blue trunks. He pauses and
gulps, perhaps wondering if he’s gone too far. Then, taking a deep breath, he
pushes Dog’s underwear down; Dog does a little shimmy and helps them fall to the
floor, and then steps out of them, naked.

“See...too skinny,” he says as Conner looks at his newly denuded body.

“U-Uh...not really,” comes the reply. “Like I said...If you’re sensitive about
it we can work out a plan for you to...um...er...bulk up.”

Conner’s stuttering is a response to Dog’s involuntary response to being naked.
We watch as Dog’s dick grows in length and girth, rising to take its customary
place snugly against the boy’s stomach. Dog blushes profusely. “Sorry...being
naked makes it do that,” he explains, as though none of us know how boners work.

“It’s okay,” Conner says.

Mike glances at me and I nod, giving him permission to get naked. He does this
expeditiously, shucking his cute red and white briefs with the skill of a boy
who likes to get naked. We smile at each other; there is no reason to wait for
Mike’s dick to grow, it is already curving toward the ceiling, fully boned.

A pair of green undies fly over my head and across the room, landing on AJ’s ass
– Sean is naked now too. AJ stirs; he may very well have fallen asleep from the
massage. He looks over at us, mild surprise registering on his face when he sees
that three of our friends have lost their clothes.

Charlie is the only one in the room still fully dressed, something that Mike
complains about. “Fine, fine,” he mutters, as though being asked to strip is
some huge inconvenience. He slips off his shirt and then pulls his jeans down to
reveal a very cool pair of briefs. The striping is black, with a floral pattern
printed on the white fabric of the butt and crotch. Stenciled flowers and
spirals of green, red and blue seem to dance across his ass.

“Wow, cool undies!” Dog exclaims.

Charlie smiles. “Thanks. I thought up the pattern in a dream,” he explains.
“These are a prototype.” Somehow, the idea that my friend dreams of wild colors
and prancing flowers makes me tingly in my tummy, I don’t know why.

“Better not mess them up, then,” Sean says, always the concerned gentleman.
Being careful not to get oil on them, he helps Charlie step out of them. The two
boys face one another, boners pointing in an excited exclamation of their youth
and vitality; they giggle at their nudity. And then they kiss.

“Are you sure you want to stick around?” I ask Conner, still feeling protective.

“Dork,” I mutter under my breath, but where he can hear me. “You know I always
want you around.” I lean into him and kiss him lightly on the lips. He tastes
like massage oil. How’d we get it on our faces?

“Then I’m good,” he says.

“Lift up your butt,” Mike says in Conner’s ear.

Conner looks bashful, and then says, “Uh...I’d rather not. I’m sorry, I can
leave if that’s a problem.”

He makes to stand up, but Mike leans on his shoulders so that he can’t. “No, no,
no,” he says, “it’s not a problem. Sit down. We’ll finish the massage.”

“Undies aren’t optional for you, though,” Charlie says to me, tugging at my
briefs. I lift and let him slide them off. Then I cozy back up against Conner,
wrapping our legs around one another. He looks down at my naked body and then
into my eyes.

“I have a boner,” I say, sounding like a toddler who’s proud of something silly
he’s done.

Conner’s eyes are lustful. “I can see that,” he says. And then he reaches out to
stroke it, massage oil coating my shaft. I moan, not at all lightly.

Seeing Conner take the initiative to make things overtly sexual energizes the
group. Mike and Dog go back to massaging Conner, while Charlie and Sean work on
me. It’s...it’s amazing, hands all over me, rubbing oil into my body, Conner
lightly stroking my cock.

AJ, apparently not wanting to be left out, crosses the couch. “You know...you
invited me to join the club, but then you got a boyfriend and I’ve never even
seen you naked,” he says to me.

He’s right. “I’m naked now,” I point out.

AJ laughs. “Yeah. And to be fair, you offered before.” He reaches out and
touches my chest, pulling back slightly at the moment of contact. I lean into
him so that his hand once again grazes my skin.

“I don’t bite,” I say.

Conner contradicts me. “Not true – he totally bites.”

Whether reassured that I won’t snap at him or excited by the prospect that I
might, AJ reaches down and lightly takes my cock from Conner’s hand. His own
erection is sticking straight out; not wanting to be rude I reach over and
stroke him in return.

“You need some oil,” Sean says, squirting a stream of the slick substance onto
AJ’s back. He then gets behind the other boy, rubbing it in with circling palms
on tan skin.

Mike gets up on his knees behind Conner and wraps his arms around my boyfriend’s
chest, enjoying an oily hug...which almost immediately turns into oily humping.
Mike starts pressing into Conner’s back. My view is obstructed, but I can tell
what he’s doing. “Ok, calm down,” I say.

Conner shakes his head. “No, he’s okay. Ha ha, but I don’t think I ever got a
hug like that before.”

Mike smiles boyishly, and presses his curved dick into Conner’s back, making a
goofy face of pleasure that I assume indicates that he is really enjoying the
way it feels to rub up and down against it. He hugs Conner tighter and leans
into him, allowing his curved shaft to move up and down the smooth skin of
Conner’s back.

Charlie does the same behind me, and I like how it feels to have his hardness
pressed up against me like this. Sean leaps off the couch onto AJ. The two boys
wrestle a bit, spreading oil all over one another. AJ laughs when Sean drips the
lubricant all over AJ’s thighs. “Charlie’s gonna kick our asses!” he declares.
Dog and Mike look on from behind Conner, massaging him as they watch their
friends get frisky.

For his part, Charlie seems more intent on rubbing his cock against my back than
keeping the room clean. “Don’t care,” he moans, confirming my suspicions, “as
long as we wipe it up after.”

“Your dick feels huge,” I marvel. And it’s true, the way Charlie is pressing
into me make it feel like he has the biggest cock ever.

“Speaking of huge dicks...” Conner says, looking across the couch. Nick has
woken up and is stretching, his oversized boner pointing proudly upward.

“I like to think I’m a pretty nice guy,” he says. And then he looks at his cock.
“Oh, that.” He smiles at his own joke and then joins us on our side of the
couch.

What ensues does, in fact, make a mess, but we all happily clean it up the
following morning.

With the slightly perfumed scent of the massage oil floating on the air, along
with what I assume to be a bazillion times the normal level of boy pheromones,
the eight of us eagerly take to our oily play. I scoot closer to Conner, and it
isn’t long before we find our arms, legs – everything – coated in body oil. The
other boys end up in the same condition, bodies sleek and smooth and shiny from
the lubricant.

AJ lies between Mike and Charlie on the couch, his lean body sliding and
slipping against those of the two boyfriends. “This feels...this is awesome!” he
moans. Mike smiles and slips his erection between AJ’s thighs, sliding it around
the slick flesh there and humping AJ in a move I’m sure feels quite close to
actual penetration.

No one dares get too frisky with Conner – they touch and caress and massage him,
but no one goes near his underwear. It is therefore highly suspicious when his
shorts wind up an inch lower than usual, and then below his hips, and then low
enough so that my boyfriend’s round ass is sticking out. And then, their owner
ever so slowly pressing them downward, they become low enough on his body so
that Conner’s long cock pops out into the open.

“Oooooh...long,” Dog says, the first one to notice Conner’s exposed erection.
This draws everyone else’s attention, and they all stop what they’re doing to
stare.

Conner blushes profusely as he pulls the trunks off his slender legs, dropping
them to the floor. He half-heartedly covers his cock with one hand. Seeing as
how it’s about twice as long as his hand is wide, it’s a pretty weak attempt.
“Jeez you guys – you’re making me shy,” he laughs.

“Sorry,” Charlie says. “Hey, the ceiling in here is really nice.” He looks up
and the other guys take the cue, pretending there is something of great interest
up there.

“Dorks,” I laugh. I reach out and put some oil on Conner’s shaft. What? I’m his
boyfriend – I’m entitled. He moans and everyone drops the charade of finding the
ceiling fascinating.

“It is long,” Sean says to Dog.

“Way long,” AJ agrees.

Conner takes the compliments modestly, still blushing at the attention. “I bet
he’s longer than Zane,” Mike says, moving down to the floor in front of the spot
where Conner and I are seated. Charlie disagrees with his size assessment
politely, but since the other boy left early they have no way to test the
theory.

Mike, getting onto his knees, rests his chin on top of his hands on the edge of
the couch. He looks like a greedy little chipmunk. “Can I feel it?” he asks. He
looks at me, as though expecting to get scolded, and emits a nervous little
giggle.

“Uh...okay,” Conner says. “Yeah, sure.”

Mike doesn’t ask twice. He reaches out and takes Conner’s dick into his eager
fingers, running a forefinger up the long shaft and then around the pink helmet.
“Oh!” Conner gasps involuntarily.

Mike continues stroking the oily tip; Conner’s shyness seems to melt away and
his eyes glaze over a little. “It’s neat...it’s long, but way harder than Nick
or Zane. Like...it’s still hard like a rock, like Dog’s...or Devon’s. Cool.”

Mike’s observations are accurate. Since becoming a massive pervert, I’d noticed
that there are a wide variety of boners. I’d formulated a couple of theories,
one of which was that bigger, thicker dicks meant slightly floppier erections.
Zane’s got hard – there was no question about this – but it was fat and spongier
than the smaller guys, who always seemed harder. Dog got so hard it felt like it
would break if you weren’t careful. Of course, I was never very careful and it
never broke – mostly it just sprayed boy goo everywhere.

But Conner was an exception to the rule. His cock is long and not overly thin,
but it gets as hard as steel.

“Is it always this hard?” Mike asks, genuinely curious.

Conner’s response comes in a lusty, gasping voice. “When a naked guy is
massaging it like that...yeah.”

“He always gets that hard,” I affirm.

“I want to feel!” Dog says, scooting closer and, once he has permission,
grabbing Conner’s dick. “Wow, it is hard. How do you masturbate? The normal
underhanded style, or overhanded, like this?” He demonstrates a long, slow
overhanded stroke.

“Ah! Oh...um...I...regular I guess...ah!” Conner’s eyes roll back and he closes
them, his body clearly awash with pleasure.

The other guys all take turns at feeling the new cock in the room, each of them
stroking it, feeling the weight of it, fingering the helmet gingerly. Nick
tickles Conner’s balls and comments on how big they are. He proclaims them
“really good for holding.”

“Ah...oh...you guys are going to make me come,” Conner gasps as Charlie takes
his turn.

“Do you want to?” he asks. Charlie is really good at hand jobs, and although
this is his first time offering Conner one, there is little doubt that he could
either make my boyfriend spray right away or keep him writhing in pleasure for
hours, depending on his whim.

“Uh...uh...no, that’s embarrassing,” Conner says, his breathing elevated and his
face and chest red. He moves Charlie’s hand off his dick and makes a funny face,
which I take to be him trying to stave off an impending climax. It seems to
work.

Charlie smiles. “Kay,” he says cutely. “But we’re all going to cum.”

Charlie and the guys set about doing just that. They climb into a naked boy pile
at the base of the couch, rubbing and touching and massaging one another. Hands
caress naked pectorals, and then find their way down to exposed crotches. The
room is filled with gasps and moans and the sounds of hands stroking oily,
well-lubricated cocks.

“I’m there, I’m there!” AJ gasps, the first to climax. He tries to point his
dick away from anyone, but he’s in the middle of the pile, and a long, white
stream of boy juice erupts from his tip, landing on the small of Nick’s back.

This sets Mike off. “AHH! Fuck! Fucking fuck!” he moans, sitting up on his knees
as a load of semen shoots from his cock, coating his belly in semen.

“I’m going to shoot too!” Charlie announces, flogging his own cock to orgasm.

Nick comes at the same time, spraying a hot load into his awaiting palm. Dog has
climbed up next to me and starts stroking my cock vigorously, making me squeal
and moan. Conner watches, slowly stroking his own turgid erection.

Sean comes up behind his lover and, reaching between Dog’s legs, he grabs onto
the boy’s boner. Dog loses concentration, gasping and pulling my dick in a funny
direction, but then he apologizes and continues masturbating me. He widens his
stance, spreading his legs a little farther apart. “Oh...Seanie...wow...ah,
yeah,” he grunts.

I smile – it’s cute that he doesn’t even have to look to know his lover’s touch.
I’m thinking about this when Dog hits a very good spot on my dick. My balls
twitch and I feel the onset of orgasm.

Below me, Sean has used his free hand to insert his thumb soundly into Dog’s
ass. The lean boy moans, a gutteral, sexual cry of pleasure. It sets my climax
in stone – I cross the point of no return.

“Ahhhhhh...Ahhhhhhhhh...ERGH!” I exclaim, my body tensing as I start shooting.
Four spurts of cum spray out, landing on my leg and the couch. When I open my
eyes, Dog is spraying too, his face red and his eyes scrunched shut.

“Devon,” Conner whispers, his eyes filled with lust and pleading. “C-can you
make me...can you make me cum?”

I smile. “Anytime...everytime...always and forever.” I grab hold of his shaft,
knowing just how he likes it, and I start stroking away.

The other boys watch, all coming down off their orgasmic highs, tummies moving
in and out as breathing slows and endorphins course through young bodies. Conner
doesn’t seem to mind the attention, putting on a bit of a show for them by
moaning and gasping away.

And then he’s there. “Devon...Devon...Devon!” he exclaims, grabbing my shoulders
and digging his fingernails into my skin. It breaks my concentration, and I
don’t pay attention to how I’m holding his dick. The first spray of semen shoots
forth, hitting Conner right in the face. My reaction is to pull down on his
bone, which succeeds in preventing him from hitting himself again, but results
in me taking a spray of hot, sticky jizz in the face.

“Oh! Oh!” Conner moans. My eyes shut tight, I decide to just let him shoot
wherever he will. I feel cum land on my right nipple and then my left shoulder,
and after six or seven spurts the deluge seems to be over. I hear Conner panting
and moaning, slight laughter in his cute post-coital sounds.

I feel someone move close to me, and then my face is being wiped clean.
“Thanks,” I say to Mike when I’m able to open my eyes. He likewise wipes the
semen from Conner’s face.

“Yeah, thanks,” Conner repeats.

The group seems to sigh collectively. The thing about Friday nights is that it’s
not all about the sex. Well, it’s not just about the sex. The group orgasms we
experience seem to be a way of washing away our stress and tension, and I know
that all of us feel lighter and happier than we did a little while ago.

It’s at exactly this moment, when everyone is quietly coming down from their
orgasmic high, that I hear a slight clanking noise. At first I ignore it, but
then it dawns on me what it might be. I sit straight up, surprised, trying not
to look conspicuous. I look over my shoulder at the ventilation grate on the
rear wall. I can’t see inside the tunnel beyond, but I swear I can make out a
shadow moving across the slats of the grate.

Is Sneak back?

Sneak had officially “retired,” or at least taken a break from spying on our
weekly get togethers. I hadn’t seen or heard him since he’d left me a final
message saying that he was going to take a break from coming around. But then
again, when I think about it, I’d never really seen or heard him when he was
coming around. It was uncharacteristic of him to make any noise at all. Could he
be trying to get my attention?

I figure that he must be. Knocking lightly on the grate is something he’d never
do by accident – he’s a pro sneaker. He must want me to know he’s leaving
something for me.

“I’ll check later,” I announce to the room. If it is Sneak back there, this
should alert him that I’ve heard him and will check our hiding spot later. But
for everyone else my comment makes no sense. Charlie cocks his head, looking at
me funny. “Sorry,” I say, coming up with an explanation on the fly. “I was
thinking about how Zane left earlier, and how he seemed upset. I was thinking I
should check on him, but then decided to check later. Sorry...talking out loud
to myself.”

“Freak,” Dog laughs, shaking his head.

Mike puts the cum rag over Conner’s deflating dick, wiping it clean. “I hope
this was all okay,” he says to him. “I mean...if you want to pretend this never
happened...you know, later...that’s okay.”

Conner tousles Mike’s hair. His chestnut, oily, oily hair. “It was fun,” Conner
says. “I never...I never had friends like you guys before. I guess I’ve been
stressed out by everything that’s going on, and all of a sudden I understood why
Devon...all of you...play like that. It was fun. But what I really need now is a
shower.”

We all agree with this assessment. The after effect of our play is that we’re
all really messy, and to be honest the oil feels considerably less sexy now,
bordering on gross. Conner smiles, blushing slightly. “And then after we’re
clean...if you guys are up for it...I say we come back in here and do it all
over again.”

The boys all smile. Dog nods and then announces, “Cool – but I get dibs on the
next Conner facial!”

This garners laughs, and then thirty seconds later eight naked boys are running
for the showers, where we do, in fact, do it all over again.

* * * * *

I sleep well that night, but wake early thinking about what I'd heard the night
before. Was Sneak really back?

Conner is nestled up against me, his naked body smooth and warm. I'm reluctant
to leave the sleepy, soft confines of our bed, but I want to investigate the
emergency access tunnel before people are up and about. So I slide out of the
covers, being careful not to wake my boyfriend.

After sliding on a pair of briefs – a pair of Conner's actually – I tiptoe over
to the club room, planning to climb up into the tunnels there. Unfortunately, I
discover that Nick and AJ have elected to spend the night in the flat. They're
camped out on opposite ends of the horseshoe couch, each cuddled up in a
blanket. Morons. They should know by now it's more fun to cuddle each other.

Back in the living room I weight my options. Sean and Dog are almost certainly
sleeping in their room, and Charlie and Mike in theirs. This leaves the fifth
and final bedroom of the flat – a space that had thus far been utilized as
Charlie's workshop. It was mostly empty now that he had a shop in the concourse.

I retrieve my key to the tunnels from its hiding spot in my wristcom and look at
it nostalgically. It's been so long since I've gone sneaking that I feel a
certain sense of sentimentality as I climb up into the grate at the top of the
rear wall.

The air in the tunnel is cool, and has the slightly musty smell I remember. I
walk the tunnel that loops our flat, passing by the other bedrooms as I make my
way to the hatch leading into the club room.

Conner is still sleeping contentedly when I look through the vent into our room.
Aww – he's so cute. I should have spied on him back when I was a professional
sneak.

Next I come to the room Sean and Dog use. I was right – they’re in there, the
two boys sleeping together, Dog's head nestled up against his boyfriend's strong
chest. I pass by the flat's kitchenette and then arrive at Charlie and Mike's
room, where I discover I'd been wrong about them – they aren't in there
sleeping. They're in there fucking.

Charlie is bent over doggie style, Mike slowly penetrating him. Conner and I
were just discovering the delights of an early morning fuck – the sleepy, slow
orgasms followed by drifting back to sleep. I smile, thinking about the first
time I'd spied on Mike and the first time I'd molested Charlie. A lot had
happened since then. My dick starts to throb slightly at the sight of my two
friends. I resolve to give Conner a special wake-up call later, but first I want
to check out Sneak's hiding spot.

I arrive at the hatch leading to the club room and see that Nick has woken up –
he's sitting on the edge of the couch, looking groggy. He has a funny expression
on his sleepy face, as though he's wondering what he got up to last night. When
he spies AJ and grins broadly, I assume he's remembered.

But the boys aren't my quarry this morning. Last night I was sure I heard
someone up here, and that someone would have almost certainly been Sneak, our
resident voyeur. I check our spot, an out-of-view crevice between a column and
the wall of the tunnel.

"You were here," I whisper when I discover a small bundle in our hiding place.
It's a cloth napkin; wrapped inside I find a data chip, the preferred means of
communication between anonymous voyeurs like Sneak and myself.

I quickly make my way back to Charlie's work room, wanting to immediately view
the contents of the chip. When I climb down out of the tunnel, I activate one of
the terminals in the room and plug in the chip. I find a single text file on it,
but when I go to open it I'm asked for a password. I type in the password we’d
used before, and a message pops up on my screen.

Devon,

I'm sorry I've been away for so long, and I'm sorry about my last message.
Things were a little intense for me back then, and I hope it didn’t hurt your
feelings that I went away.

I've been really good. In a lot of ways it was a good thing for me to stop
spying on people. It was fun, but it wasn't...I don't know the right words...it
wasn't healthy for me. Anyway, that's not why I decided to write you, but I
wanted to first say that I'm not going to start coming by on Fridays again, I
just needed to leave you this message and make sure you got it.

I hate to bring you into this, but you're the only person I feel like I can
trust. There is something going on that I have a bad feeling about, and I think
you can help me learn more about it. There’s a drug called Zupertol. A few weeks
ago, I discovered that a substantial amount of it was listed as delivered to the
hospital, but it seems like way too much for a ship our size. When I went to
investigate this, I couldn’t determine if we’d really made that much or not, and
if so where it went. With the riots and then the fire, it seems like a red flag.

I know that you're dating Conner – congratulations, by the way. I also know that
Conner works at the hospital. It would be a huge favor if you could have him
check the records there. Does the hospital really have the Zupertol, and how
much? How much do they use? This isn't anything he'll get into trouble for –
he'll confirm this when you ask him. The public records list this information,
but the problem is I'm not sure I can trust them.

If the records are accurate and the Zupertol is really being used by the
hospital in those quantities, then we can call this a done deal and chalk it up
to an overactive imagination. If someone is stealing the drug...I don't know
what I'd do with that information. But let's take things once step at a time.

Thanks in advance for helping me out with this.

Sneak

PS: I'm writing this post script later, right before leaving you the chip. I
told you I didn't plan to start sneaking again, but I happened onto you and your
friends. Fuck – I do kind of miss spying on you guys – that was hot! I guess I
need to go talk to my sponsor and give up my three month chip, ha ha. Anyway, it
was good to see you. Leave me a message later in our hiding spot. If you don’t
want to get involved, that’s fine, just tell me and I won’t pester you with this
anymore.

I read through Sneak's message twice before closing the file and removing the
data chip from the terminal. Great – is everybody on this ship getting into the
whole espionage thing?

I'm relieved to hear that Sneak is doing well. It had been a weird friendship –
us exchanging the occasional data chip with a message or video, Sneak never
divulging his identity. Still, when he'd written me saying he was cutting off
communication with me, I'd felt a certain sense of loss. It was good to hear
from him.

I think about Sneak's concerns. Everything produced on the ship was generally
recorded and tracked. Most items, like rice or pine cones, were only loosely
monitored. Ownership on the ship was a little different than it had been on
Earth. Picking an apple on a farm and eating it was commonplace, and acceptable.
Taking medical supplies seemed a little different – I could see why Sneak was
concerned. I sigh, resolving to ask Conner about it later.

A sly smile crosses my lips when I enter my bedroom. Conner is still sleeping,
but he's tossed around so that his torso is tightly wrapped in the bed sheets.
This has exposed his naked lower half, his flaccid cock draped over his left
leg. It twitches slightly, and I wonder if this is a result of me making a guest
appearance in his dreams. Or maybe he's fucking the dauphin d'marquis in a
bathtub full of pudding – it is a dream after all.

I place a blue sticker just above the door handle outside the room before
closing it, the club's universal symbol for "stay the fuck out." Then I move
silently back to the bed. This is a rare opportunity, one which combines the
nostalgic naughtiness of my sneaking days with the love and lust I feel for
Conner.

Leaning down close to my boyfriend's body, I take in his scent. He smells sweet
and slightly floral, with a slight tinge of last night's sex. His face is
beautiful when he’s asleep, even though it’s absent its usual wide smile. I
reach up and brush a lock of sandy brown hair from his forehead.

I can't help but wonder what last night meant for him. Had he decided that a one
time experiment with my friends was called for, or had being my boyfriend opened
him to the possibilities of a more promiscuous lifestyle? Would he join us
again, or had he merely wanted to forge a bond with my friends? There was no
doubt that he was now a member of our little secret society, but I wasn't sure
in what respect. I suppose ultimately that will be up to him, and a question for
another day.

The question for today, however, is to ask how I could possibly resist the
situation. Conner still completely asleep, I move down to his naked crotch. His
dick is long and beautiful, and his balls are cutely nestled one against the
other between his legs. When I very lightly stroke the smooth skin of his
scrotum I get no reaction. But when I take him into my mouth, I'm pretty sure I
send his mind dreaming about warm wetness and lust.

It's not very long before he wakes up moaning and writhing and smiling.

* * * * *

“It’s so big now!” Conner exclaims later that day. He’s right – it is way bigger
than it was before.

Conner decided to spend some of his free time taking me to the observation deck
(again) where we (again) view the approaching ship. This time there are about a
hundred other people on the deck, most of them looking out into space at the
approaching vessel.

When we locate it, EV1985 is no longer a tiny fleck in the sky. It now looks
like a little model of our ship, albeit one that is almost completely invisible
in the sky. In movies space ships look bright and clearly distinguishable, but
out in the middle of nowhere, with no sun to light them, they’re pretty dang
dark.

“Here, this might help,” Conner says, pulling up a program on his com. It
projects a one meter square display on the window, quickly analyzing and
enhancing the image. Text appears under several stars, providing names and data
for the important ones. The image of EV1985 is altered, the computer enhancing
it and giving us a better idea what we’re looking at.

“That’s so cool!” Jason exclaims. The scrub had been hiding out in the cafe next
to Charlie’s shop. When Conner and I had walked past, he’d followed us, and soon
we found ourselves with a shadow. It was alright – Jason was an okay kid, and I
didn’t mind letting him hang out with us on a Sunday afternoon.

Conner’s wristcom app draws attention to us, and soon there is a small crowd
asking him which program he’s using. Jason and I step aside to give others a
chance to see.

I walk over to a nearby water fountain and Jason follows. “Hey Devon?” he asks
as I take a drink. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” I joke as I wipe my face with my hand.

He laughs and calls me a dumbass before continuing. “No, I mean...if I ask you
something, will you promise not to tell?”

“As long as you aren’t planning to tell me you were the one who set the fire...I
promise to keep any secrets.” I knew the scrubs didn’t have anything to do with
the recent fire, but they were often prone to smaller acts of accidental
vandalism. Never let them make cookies with you unless you’re absolutely sure
they know the difference between a cup of sugar and a cup of salt – that’s all I
have to say about that.

He smiles. “No, it’s not that,” he says. “It’s...I want to go out on a date.”

I laugh. “Well, I’m a little old for you, but....”

“Devon!” he protests, actually stomping his foot as he does so. “Can you stop
joking? I’m being serious.”

I fear that I’ve hurt his feelings, and remember that I’m dealing with a twelve
year-old here, not one of my peers. I should be less facetious. “Okay, sorry,” I
say. “No more jokes. So you want to go out on a date – anyone in particular, or
you just want to start dating?”

“Someone in particular,” he answers, sounding a little uncertain about talking
about this.

“Okay,” I reply. “So – what’s your question?”

Jason shuffles his feet, and then seems like he’s going to drop the topic all
together. But I get the sense he really wants to talk, so I encourage him to be
open with me. “Well,” he says finally, “I want to go on a date...and maybe have
sex with him...and maybe be boyfriends. I don’t know how to ask, or anything
like that...you know?”

An alarm bell goes off in my brain at the mention of sex and boyfriends. For
some reason it hadn’t occurred to me until this moment that he was talking about
dating another boy. But then, who else would he date? The scrubs were all boys,
their female classmates off on another ship somewhere.

Gay relationships aside, I’m also immediately uncomfortable with the idea of
talking about sex with Jason. He wants to have sex with this other boy? Is he
even old enough to get an erection? I think back to my own
childhood...yeah...Jason turns thirteen next week. I guess that’s about the age
I started popping boners and jerking off. And Charlie and I had overheard some
of the scrubs doing what sounded like just that at the end of their campout
weekend.

“Um...wow,” is all I can say. “Isn’t this maybe something to talk with Charlie
about?” As one of the counselors, I was sure that Charlie would be a better
candidate for explaining to Jason how to date, and especially how to have sex.

Without thinking I reply, a laugh in my voice, “Charlie knows what he’s doing.”
Then I blush, realizing that I’d just virtually copped to having sex with
Charlie in front of Jason. Also – I think the younger boy may have just called
me a slut. I try to recover. “I mean...well...I meant, he’s one of your
counselors and all.”

The boy looks like he might start crying, and I suddenly feel really crummy. I
think back to when I was first coming into my sexuality. Things were really
scary and confusing, and I was way older than Jason is now. I feel bad for
trying to pawn him off on someone else, even if Charlie was better at this sort
of thing.

“Look, Jason...dude...I’m sorry. I was just saying...because Charlie is usually
the one you guys talk to. But hey, if you want to talk to me...let’s talk.” I
figure I can take him to lunch some time and answer any questions he might have.

“Now?” he says, looking extremely anxious and agitated.

I look over to where my boyfriend is chatting with several other ship watchers.
I get the feeling that he won’t miss me for a little while. “Um...yeah, sure.
Let me just tell Conner.”

As I expect, when I ask Conner if he minds if I take Jason for an early lunch he
doesn’t mind at all, electing to remain behind and watch the approaching vessel
with the others. As I’m leaving, I notice that it looks bigger now than it did
even when we came in here a little while ago.

Jason and I walk the long tunnel leading back into the ship proper. I think
about taking him to the cafeteria, but he’ll probably want privacy. So I take
him to the empty restaurant space next to the entry to the observation deck
tunnel.

“Wow, this place is cool,” he says, his eyes wide.

“Yeah, it is pretty cool,” I reply. Jason is impressed that I have a key. I
don’t tell him that anyone with kitchen access is able to open the door. We go
upstairs to the smaller secondary dining room. Conner and I had cleaned up our
mess, but we’d left the one table out in the center of the room. Jason and I sit
down.

“Sorry,” I say. “I guess we should have coffees. Or do you like hot chocolate?”

“I like mint chocolate chip lattes,” he answers.

I smile. “Refined taste for one so young,” I say in a silly voice. “I’m game.
I’ll be right back.”

I go downstairs to the kitchen. It wasn’t stocked with food, but since it had
been used a couple of times for...er...”private events” there was a carton of
coffee pods. I’m able to whip up somewhat decent lattes for us, which I take
back upstairs.

“He has a whole cafe, and fresh ground beans,” I say defensively. “Anyway, these
will do. So...you want to ask a friend out on a date. Adam?”

Jason looks shocked at my guess. I don’t know why – it wasn’t the psychic event
of the century to figure out that he liked the other boy. Jason and Adam were
always together, always laughing, and there was just something about both of
them. I explain to him how I’d reached the conclusion that he’d been talking
about Adam.

“Do you think other people know?” he asks, sounding a little scared.

I shrug. “Probably not. But who cares if they do? You like him, right?”

“Um...yeah. A lot,” he replies, grinning sheepishly.

“Ok, so then I guess my next question is...do you guys do stuff together? Like
sexual stuff?”

Jason blushes, enough that I can see it despite his olive skin. “No,” he says
shyly.

“Okay...if any of this makes you uncomfortable tell me, but I swear that I’m
going to help. I just need some info first. You like Adam but you don’t have a
sexual relationship yet. That’s important because Charlie and I thought you
might.”

“You guys...talk about us like that?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I nod, then realize this might scare him off. “I mean, no. It’s
like...the second night of the campout we thought that some of the scrubs – some
of you guys – were fooling around, or at least that’s what we thought we heard.
That’s why I asked.

The explanation apparently seems reasonable. “Oh,” he says, and then adds
matter-of-factly, “Yeah – that was all the guys jerking off. I missed it. I hurt
my ankle, remember?”

I did remember. Conner had insisted that Jason spend the night at the hospital
when he’d hurt his ankle. Poor guy, he had to go and hurt himself within earshot
of my boyfriend and his penchant for hospitalizing people.

Jason explains to me the events that transpired following the campout.
Apparently, from what I gather, Adam had confided in Jackson that Adam liked
Jason, and Jackson was supposed to approach Jason and ask him whether he liked
Adam, but in a manner that precluded Jason figuring out that Adam wanted to
know. Jason had told Jackson not to tell Adam anything, requesting that Jackson
first confirm with Adam that Adam liked Jason in the way you like a boyfriend
before Jason would commit to addressing Jackson’s questions about his liking
Adam.

“Freaking hell, that’s complicated,” I say when Jason stops explaining, my head
spinning. I think about things for a moment, and then offer Jason some advice.

“Here’s the thing, dude. You sound like you’re just now becoming sexually
active, and from what we can tell Adam is too. It sounds like he likes you – at
least that’s what I gathered from all of that. And you like him?”

“Yeah,” Jason nods.

“So...all the scary stuff is over. You guys like each other – great! I say you
do this as simply as possible. Go up to him and say ‘Hey, I hear you like me. I
think you’re cute too. Do you want to go on a date some time?’” I do little
voices and everything.

“That’s kind of...hard,” Jason mutters.

I shrug. “Dating can be hard. But sometimes you have to take a leap.”

“Is that what happened with Conner?” he asks. “Did you just go up to him like
that?”

I laugh. “Um...no. Conner and I collided like two out of control cars on an icy
road. And trust me, what I recommended for you is way better.”

“Should we have sex?” Jason asks.

I look at my feet uncomfortably. I have trouble figuring myself out, much less
advising a kid who seems too young to be thinking about sex. But is he too
young? I have no idea. I try to decide whether it makes sense to treat him like
a kid or like one of my friends. I decide that he gets treated like a kid
enough. He’s come to me for adult advice, so I’ll treat him like an adult.

“It all depends,” I start out by saying. What follows is a frank, friendly
conversation about the birds and the bees. Jason gets over his bashfulness and
asks questions about everything that crosses his mind. I try and clear up some
of his misconceptions and allay his fears on other things. Overall, the kid
seems pretty together, all things considered.

“I have another question,” he asks once we’ve covered what everything does and
where all it can go.

“Okay, shoot,” I say.

“If Adam and I start dating, can we come to your jerk off club?”

The question leaves me a little slack-jawed. “Uh...what?” I ask. “How do you
know about that?”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Everyone knows,” he says, sounding quite certain.
“So...if Adam and I were dating could we come?”

“I don’t really think that would be a good idea,” I say, returning to the role
of older, wiser big brother figure.

“Why not?” he asks.

I think about it. “Well, you guys are really young,” I say. “Jason...the fact
that you’re getting to the age where you’re going to want to have sex is great.
The things we’ve talked about, they’re part of growing up. But there are rules
and limits...usually it’s not really kosher for someone my age to...you know,
jerk off or do anything sexual with someone your age.”

Jason huffs. “But you’re only five years older than me,” he says defiantly.
“Zane is almost five years older than you. Why is it different?”

The conversation that follows is a delicate balance. I try not to sound too
authoritarian, while at the same time making sure that Jason knows he and Adam
can’t come hang with us on Fridays. As a concession, I tell him that I’ll advise
him on starting his own club with the other scrubs. It sounds like they’re
already off to a decent start.

I laugh, imagining a future where there really are official wank club
assignments, duties and transfers. “Deal. But when you’re seventeen, I bet you
think we’re all gross old men and stick to Adam. Or stick to sticking it to
Adam...hey, I’m not judging.” I raise my hands in mock defense and Jason
giggles.

When I tell the younger boy that I need to get back, he shuffles off to his
flat, promising me that he’ll consider asking Adam out in the manner I’d
suggested.

“Everything okay?” Conner asks when I arrive back at the rear observation deck.

“Yeah,” I nod. “Jason just wanted to ask me something. Er...birds and bees talk,
you know?”

He laughs. “Good luck with that. Anything I can help with?”

I shake my head. “No. I think we got it covered. I think he’s going to ask one
of his friends on a date, and it sounds like the friend will say yes. From what
he tells me, the other guy likes him...so.” Then I remember the message from
Sneak. “There is something else I wanted to ask about, though.”

I tell Conner about Sneak’s message. Conner was one of the few people I’d
confided in about the existence of Sneak, and I’d done that when we first
started dating. I felt getting everything out in the open was best, and it had
been.

I do omit one fact, though. I don’t tell Conner that Sneak left the message
after witnessing my boyfriend’s first visit to the club. I’m not sure how he’d
feel about that. I tell him that Sneak stopped by in the middle of the night,
leaving the chip outside the flat.

“Well he’s right about one thing,” Conner says. “Someone stealing
pharmaceuticals sounds like a red flag. Zupertol isn’t a dangerous substance
though, and it can’t be used as a narcotic. Still, with everything that’s
happened recently....”

“You think you can check on it?” I ask.

“I’m totally going to check on it,” he replies. “And your friend is right,
there’s nothing weird about me doing so. I can give you the info as soon as I’ve
had time to do some research at the hospital. But...Devon, if I might offer some
advice?”

“Yeah?”

Conner looks uncertain, and then continues, “We don’t know a lot about your
friend...Sneak. I’m not sure whether that was wise when you were just fooling
around, but this...this is something new. It may be time to ask him for some
trust. You might consider asking who he is.”

I think about this. “That’s probably true,” I say. “But it might push him away.
Still...if I phrase it right, he might understand.”

“I also think you should go to Reid with this,” he says. I sigh. I’d hoped the
summit meant the end of politics and espionage. Going to Reid with more secrets
and data chips wasn’t my first choice. But Conner was right. I agree to take
Sneak’s suspicions to Reid, along with any information Conner got from the
hospital.

“But let’s not get carried away,” Conner says. “Zupertol is a relatively mild
drug, and I can’t think of anything bad you could use it for. We’re probably
looking at a clerical error, but if not, it’s probably nothing. I’ll do some
research.”

Later that afternoon I arrange to meet Reid in the small farm where we do yoga.
I figure there’s no need to involve Patrick, who’s still undercover with
Steven’s group. When Reid arrives I greet him.

“You guys did a bang-up job with the summit,” I say. Reid and Patrick had been
secretly garnering information from Eden and Steven for weeks. Although for the
most part they were passing the intel on to security force, they were also using
what they learned to try and move the two parties toward common ground, part of
what had led to the summit.

Reid shuffles his feet, looking pleased at my compliment. “Thanks,” he says. “It
was Patrick, mostly. He got Steven to bend on a lot of the more extreme stuff –
I think it left us with a foundation we could work with.”

We discuss the progress that had been made, and I’m eager to hear what Reid
thinks. When he says that he’s hopeful that the summit has put the worst of the
tension behind us, I feel lighter and happier. But then I think about how the
info Patrick had passed on to Reid – info that should have prevented the attack
on the farm – had apparently been intercepted and relayed back to Steven.

“Any more news on the mole?” I ask. No one else knew that Patrick, Reid and I
were the only people in the chain of custody before it went to security force,
so they also didn’t know that we knew there was a mole working in security
force.

Reid shakes his head. “No…it’s been relatively quit. I’m kind of hoping the
summit will help put all this behind us.

I tell Reid mostly everything. I give him a brief rundown on who Sneak is and
how we met, and then I explain about the Zupertol. “So that’s it,” I finish.
“Conner is going to do some more research, and we’re really not sure what all of
this means. I wanted to let you know right away, though.”

He looks thoughtful, and after thinking for a moment answers. “Yeah,” he says.
“There is something odd about this…if this Sneak person is right. Let me know
what you find out. And thanks for telling me.”

I proclaim that my praiseworthy spy craft has earned me a round of six wall
against Reid, one of the only opponents who ever presents me a real challenge.
He agrees, and although we’re both bothered by Sneak’s information, it feels
like old times when we head to Bottomside for a six wall melee against one
another.

* * * * *

Two days later, I meet Conner in the main lobby. There are butterflies in my
tummy – it’s a really special day.

"You look adorable!" he proclaims – to my general disdain.

"I look like a plonker," I reply, quite certain that I do.

He reaches over and runs his fingers through my hair, which for once is neat and
combed. "It's a big change, I like it."

He's referring to my hair. Gone are the multi-colored streaks of blue in my
bangs and the platinum blonde, as is the general shagginess I'd obtained by
leaving my hair uncut for over two months. Charlie and I had visited the barber
shop in the commons the day before, shortly after I'd dyed my hair back to its
original and actual color – a darkish medium brown that I was never overly fond
of. Then I'd had it cut short and neat.

Add some new clothes – a short sleeve white button-up shirt under a sleeveless
blue argyle sweater – and you have a whole new Devon. Devon the plonker.

"You don't look like a plonker," Conner insists. "You look cute, like a sexy
schoolboy if anything. I think it's perfect, and it was a sweet idea to dress up
for your parents. Your mom is going to love it."

The whole boyfriend thing is still somewhat new to me. Conner always took it
upon himself to reassure me, and I found that very...um...reassuring. But then,
I did that for him too, and when I thought about that I reached the conclusion
that this was a big part of what being boyfriends meant.

"She's going to love you even more," I say. Conner stops smiling and looks
really nervous. "Oh stop it," I grumble. "You'll be fine. It's almost noon...we
better get going."

Yep, Conner was meeting my parents. Two day before, I'd received an email from
them. The ships were always moving around in these long lanes the fleet had
established, and the San Diego ship they were on was close enough to broadcast
video between our two vessels without any major lag. Apparently, my parents’
ship, EV1888, had moved closer to us as a result of EV1985 moving across lanes.
So I guess I had something else to be happy about the impending arrival of the
Orange County vessel – it had resulted in an opportunity to have the first live
conversation with my parents since we’d left Earth. It was a really nice
birthday surprise.

I did feel a little bad when I learned how much it cost. We could earn credits
on the ship, and although most necessities were free there were luxuries that
could be purchased with them. My parents’ call was going to cost about twelve
million doobers…I think about paying for a call with doughnuts and laugh to
myself.

I’d been really excited, of course; Conner was too at first, then less so when I
insisted that I introduce him to my parents. Eventually I'd come to convince him
that this was one of his sworn duties and that he's just have to bite the
bullet.

Conner and I, me in my plonker vest and him in the dressier clothes he'd worn on
our dinner date, make our way to the administration offices in Topside. My
appointment time isn't until one, but I'd insisted we arrive an hour early, just
in case.

The civilian areas in Topside sat directly beneath the military base. This was
where Eden had his offices, and it was also where most of the training classes
took place. Zane also liked coming up here to sleep in the oversized leather
chairs of the Topside lobby when he was shirking his duties elsewhere, but that
wasn't really an official capacity of the area.

Conner and I walk past the mayor's office on our way to the administration
building, the bureaucratic core of the ship. It was here that living and work
assignments were made, and it was here that inter-ship communications were
handled. We wait in a short line before being seen by a bored looking guy at the
main desk.

"Devon Chasen," I tell him when we get to the front of the line. "We have a
video conference at one."

He looks me up on the list and finds our appointment. "Take room three," he
says, offering me a key card. "You can go on in. I don't have anyone scheduled
before you."

I take the key and thank the guy. Conner and I easily locate room three. I
expect – I don't know – a room filled with busily beeping communication
equipment and radar screens or something, but we enter the small room to find
nothing more than a silver display encircled by a number of empty chairs. A
small couch sits lonely and dilapidated next to the door.

"I guess we came a little early," I say, looking at my wristcom. We're about
forty minutes early.

"That's okay," Conner replies. "Better early than late."

I eye the couch by the door. "We could have sex while we wait," I joke. Well...kinda
joke. What do you call a comment where if the other person takes you up on an
offer you jump at the opportunity, but if they don't you pretend it was a joke?

Conner rolls his eyes. "Yeah...because that's the first impression I want to
make with your parents. They sit down to talk to their kid for the first time in
a year and up pops an image of some heathen violating him."

"Wow, are there violating heathens around here? I want to be violated!" Conner
laughs at me and it seems to help relax him.

Ultimately, we don't have sex in the call room, of course, but instead pass the
time in a more mundane fashion, Conner reading a book on the couch and me
waiting impatiently for the call to come through. At one point, about twenty
minutes to my appointment time, he looks up from his book.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” he says. “I did some research about the Zupertol today.
But we can talk about that later. I don’t want to get you agitated before your
big call.”

I roll my eyes. “Well now I’m going to be agitated either way,” I say. “Just
tell me – what’s the story?”

Conner leans into me and whispers. “Well, like I thought, Zupertol has no real
uses as anything but it’s primary purpose, which is a mild sedative. It’s
actually a little outdated, in fact. There are better alternatives. But
regardless, there is something going on with it – I show way more deliveries of
it to the hospital than there should be. And then when I looked, there’s none in
our pharmacy. And that’s not the weirdest thing.”

“Oh?” I ask.

“Yeah. When I started to investigate the paper trail, I found even more
shipments of Zupertol listed, but going places that make no sense. Like I show a
shipment going to W4.”

“But what does that mean?” I ask.

“No idea. It’s a moderately inert drug. It seems like the ship is producing more
than it should be, and that it’s being shipped off to nowhere. I have no fucking
clue what it means. But I think this is enough to go to Reid with, obviously
something suspicious is going on.”

“I do too,” I say. “And I’m going to leave a message for Sneak. I know we talked
about it being weird and all – I’m going to let him know what we found out, but
tell him that if he wants us to trust him he needs to think about coming
out...at least to me.”

“I can deal with that.” Conner shifts in his seat, looking uncomfortable.
“Devon, there’s something else. Ian may be involved.”

I look at him curiously. “Ian? How do you mean?”

Conner lowers his voice so that even I have trouble hearing him. I don’t know
why he does it, but it seems appropriate. “When I was researching this, I
discovered something – Ian has been logging into the system and looking into the
Zupertol reserves.”

I ask him if this means people will be able to see that he researched the same
issue. I don’t want Conner getting into any trouble. He shakes his head. “No.
There’s a difference in our system between doctors and nurses. Ian’s access is
more limited, and also tracked. Mostly so that we can monitor any orders the
nurses issue, things like that.”

“Okay,” I sigh. “So no one will see that you looked this up and we now know that
Ian is interested in Zupertol.”

“Yeah, but what any of that means...I have no idea,” Conner says, leaning back
in his seat.

“Should we ask him about it?”

Conner thinks for a minute before replying. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,”
he says, shaking his head. “Ian and I are...I guess you’d call us acquaintance
friends. We get along at work, and we do yoga and stuff, but I don’t know him
that well.”

“But you think he might be capable of stealing drugs?” I ask.

Conner shrugs. “I wouldn’t think so, no. But then, you can never tell, right? I
mean, you and I have talked about this – we both believe that the fire is
definitely linked to Steven’s group, even if the investigation doesn’t seem to
reflect this. For all we know, Ian could be working with Steven...or maybe
someone else. Or maybe he was just looking up inventory...it’s impossible to
say.”

I sigh. The business of people on the ship not trusting one another was really
annoying. Put another entry on the list of why I fucking hated Steven, even if
he was dressing up nicer lately. I’m reflecting on this when the display
flickers and the scrolling text is replaced with a message telling us that the
call is being connected. A thirty-second countdown begins.

“Thanks for telling me,” I say. “We’ll talk about it later. In the meantime,
here comes the call.”

"Uh...I think now is a good time to chicken out," Conner says, reaching for the
door handle. He's just kidding – I think.

"You'll be fine," I say. For some reason I'm feeling a little nervous myself –
not about introducing Conner to my parents, but generally. I don't know why.
Probably just the excitement...I'd been emailing my mom and dad since the
inter-ship communications were established, but this was the first live
conversation I'd have with my parents since the evacuation.

Conner sits down on the couch, out of view from the camera. We'd agreed that he
could hide on the sidelines until I introduced him. This was a compromise I'd
made after he'd threatened to bow out after I informed him that I hadn't yet
told my parents that I was dating. Well...things had been busy...it had slipped
my mind.

The display flickers when the countdown reaches three, and then a live image of
my parents appears on screen. They look happy, but eager. I assume I’ve popped
up on their screen when they both smile widely.

"Harold!" my dad exclaims in greeting. He likes kidding me about the second
choice for my name.

"Hey," I reply, suddenly really not sure how you greet someone in this
situation.

It takes a while for a reply to come, and at first I'm concerned that there's a
problem with the feed. But when my dad answers it makes sense. "Okay," he says,
"so the computer is showing a current lag of twenty-two seconds. Not too bad,
all things considered. I've sat through a couple of business conferences with
twelve minute lags...really annoying. But what we find is that it's a little
easier to talk a bit on one end, then let the other person talk for a bit...if
that's okay. So I'm going to let your mom talk now, then once she's done we'll
wait for your reply."

I understand what he's saying. With the lag, a result of the time required for
the light-speed signal to travel between vessels, video conferences were
probably like IM chats, where eighteen conversations could become a jumbled mess
if you weren't careful.

My parents look good. I don't know what I expected, it had only been nine months
since I'd last seen them. God, it felt like years. They’re virtually the same –
maybe I expected them to seem older. They both appear really happy, obviously,
but my mom also looks like she might break out crying at any moment.

"Hi honey," she says. I cringe – I don't really like being called "honey," but I
always let her get away with it. "Your father and I are really, really excited
to be able to talk with you. We've been hoping for a while that we'd come within
range, and now we're glad we saved up all our communication credits...but enough
about that. I want to hear all about you, and how you're doing. You look really
nice, by the way...."

My dad shakes his head. "No, no, it doesn't. Quite right. I was just saying that
he probably thinks that. Anyway, do go on."

My mom looks back at the camera. "Anyway, dear. We'd like to hear all about
what's going on with you...we'll wait for your reply."

It makes me a little dizzy, thinking about how this last sentence was spoken
almost a half minute ago. Somewhere, out in space, my parents were sitting
quietly in a room, just like the one I was in, waiting for the image of their
son on screen to start speaking.

And that's what I do, talking for a couple of minutes about the most recent
events in my life. We email frequently, so they know a lot about my life on the
ship, but I fill in some of the details. I tell them how in many ways living on
EV5997 is like college just kept going, and then I tell them about the whale
tank and how I go surfing there, a detail I realize I'd never mentioned. I talk
a little about my cooking, trying to say that I'm getting really good without
sounding immodest. "I just perfected this whole four course pumpkin-themed
meal," I tell them. "It was great. Wow, I guess I've been talking for a while.
I'll wait for your reply now...that's what I'm supposed to say, right?"

The conversation is a little disconcerting. On screen my parents are smiling and
sometimes laughing, but their reactions are behind my talking, so that sometimes
I stutter, my brain confused about why they're reacting to my current words the
way they are. "Talking like this can be confusing," I say. "Oops, I'm talking
out of turn. Sorry."

"Well...we have a little surprise for you," my father says, apparently after
they're done listening to my little speech.

"Oh yes!" my mother exclaims. "And let's do that now, in case we lose the
signal. Do you want to get the thing Mark?"

My dad stands and is about to move off screen when he pauses. My parents both
look at the screen, and I'm afraid the call is about to end unexpectedly. But
then my mom says, "Yes, dear...it can be a little confusing. But I can't tell
you how wonderful it is to see you. Go ahead, Mark." My dad steps out of view.
"Well, I don't want to waste any time, so while he gets that I'll tell you a
little about life here. We're doing very well. I think in our last emails I was
telling you how much your father hated his new secondary detail
assignment...well, that's over with...the tanks are all mold and mildew free
now."

"And thank god for that," my dad says, sitting back down. I laugh, partially
because my father had been assigned to clean their ship's version of W4, and
partially because I'd totally forgotten that there were places where "shit
detail" was referred to as "secondary detail."

My dad reaches down and picks up a potted plant. "Hey, bougainvillea!" I exclaim
when I recognize the viney plant by its green leaves and purple flowers. "We
have some here too...that one looks great, thought. Did you grow it?" Then I
clamp my hand over my mouth – I'm speaking out of turn again and apologize.

"This, as I'm sure you noticed, is a rather healthy bougainvillea plant. But
what you might not realize is that it's a little special. This plant...."

He stops speaking for a moment and both my parents listen. And then my mom
laughs. "Yeah, he noticed," she says. "We did grow it, dear. And don't worry
about speaking up whenever you like...it's really good to hear your voice."

"Yes, it is," my dad agrees. "Anyway, as I was saying before Harold so rudely
interrupted me...this is a very special bougainvillea. If it looks familiar,
it's because this is a clipping from your San Diego plant."

I'd grown up in a little house in the Mission Hills neighborhood of San Diego.
Bougainvillea thrived in the area, and my parents had planted one in our
backyard when they'd moved in, about a year before I was born. By the time I
headed off to college, it had grown up the trellis they'd built for it and taken
up about a quarter of the small yard, almost completely engulfing a storage shed
in its apparent quest for domination over the yard. It created a canopy of green
and purple vines that looked amazing in the afternoon sun, dappled light falling
on the concrete in green and purple shadows. As a child I'd often played under
the plant, thinking that it might very well be magical.

"Wow, that's so great!" I exclaim. "It's so big already!" And it is – my dad is
struggling to hold the plant in his lap, the purple leaves slapping at his face.
I laugh, knowing that they had to really want to show me this to drag the thing
to wherever their video rooms were located on their ship.

After the pause, my mom laughs and says, "Yes, this one is getting along well.
But this is not the original. We planted the first clipping in a park near our
forward mall. It's about twelve feet tall already!" It's wonderful to hear my
mom laugh. It brings back memories of afternoon television and string cheese and
school projects constructing models of the sun and eight planets.

I nod and tell my parents that I had been getting a lot of exercise, both in the
gym and on the farms. "And then like I said, we've started surfing on one of the
wet farms. It isn't quite like the real thing, but it's nice. There’s a whale
there that I’m friends with...I’m not kidding. Oh! Before we run short on time,
I need to introduce you to someone – not the whale, though. Conner, come over
here," I say.

Conner looks a little pale and shakes his head. I laugh at him, knowing very
well that he'll comply with enough goading. "Knock it off...you're wasting
time," I chastise him. He gets up and takes a seat in a chair next to me.
"Dork," I say to him. And then I turn back to the camera. "As long as we're
doing 'show and tell,' I wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Doctor
Conner McLaglen."

"Yes, yes," I say, and then joke, "Junior Doctor Pri Priori Junior Factotum,
Physician to the Undersecretary of France." I laugh at the silly title. "No,
just kidding," I say to my parents. "It's just Junior Doctor Conner McLaglen."

We wait for the reply, Conner shifting in his seat nervously next to me. My
mom's face lights up as she listens to me speak on her end. "Oh!" she says. "Is
this the young man who treated you when you were hurt? If so, it's very good
that you brought him by...we owe him our deepest gratitude for everything. You
wouldn't know, but hearing that a child is hurt...well...we just owe you our
deepest gratitude."

I'd told my parents when I'd broken my arm and shoulder, and as expected my mom
had blown things out of proportion, even when I went to the trouble to omit that
the injury had happened during a riot, and not from six wall as I'd claimed.

I blush when my parents stop speaking on screen. Suddenly the moment is upon me,
and I decide to dive right in. "Um...no," I say to my mom's question about
Conner being my doctor. And then I realize that he actually was. "Well, yes," I
correct myself. "Conner did treat me...he is my doctor, I mean. Uh...but
then...well, now I'm all stuttery," I mumble to Conner, "Um...Conner and I are
in love...he's my boyfriend."

The announcement hangs in the air, making both Conner and me a little
uncomfortable. And then I giggle, my usual involuntary response to tension. I
immediately regret it, feeling like a little kid. "Oh my god, I'm such an
idiot," I say.

On screen, my parents are smiling, politely waiting. And then their eyes flare
and I can tell they're receiving my message about Conner. They smile and then
both start speaking at the same time.

"Well, that's wonderful!" my mom exclaims.

My dad puts on a sly smile. "You mean boyfriend, boyfriend, right? Not like how
the kids these days say 'Hey, wanna catch a movie with me and the boyfriends?"

My mom slaps my dad's shoulder lightly. "Mark! No one says that."

He laughs and rubs his arm defensively. "Ouch, woman! What? I totally said that
all the time. 'Hey, me and the boyfriends are going out for malts.' You
know...yeah, okay, no one says that."

My mom rolls her eyes. "Anyway...that's very exciting news. We want to hear all
about you, Conner. Tell us, how did you meet Devon? Where are you from? And
Devon honey, let Conner have a turn talking now."

Wow, it didn't take long for me to be replaced, did it? Conner is immediately
the center of attention. It's a role I know he abhors, but he's getting a
special treat later as payment for putting up with all of this.

"Um, I don't really know where to begin," he says shyly. And then he tells my
parents a little about where he's from, and how he moved all over as a kid. He
tells them about how we met at school and how we were just friends until
recently. He even tells them about the pigeon that ate my doughnut – stupid
fucking bird. After a few minutes he pauses. "That's it, I guess."

After a pause, my mom says, "Well, it's so very nice to meet you, Conner. I
would offer to have you over for dinner, but I guess that will have to wait.
Well honey...dating a doctor, and such a cutie...you have beautiful green eyes,
Conner."

"They're blue," my dad says.

My mom looks at him questioningly. "Do we need to have yours checked? They're
green."

My dad studies the monitor, making us laugh when he presses in close to it,
apparently to get a better view. Getting that close to the camera makes him look
like he has a huge forehead. "Nope, I still say they're blue."

"They're green, actually," I correct him.

"You two make a nice couple, even if Devon is dressed like a plonker," my dad
kids. "We wondered when you'd start dating. I think you two should give us a
little kiss, just so your mom can get all fluttery."

"See, I told you they were green!" my mom exclaims when my reply comes through.

My dad smiles slyly. "Maybe Devon is color blind," he suggests.

"Oh he is not," my mom says. The constant playful banter is something I grew up
with, and it's making me feel all warm inside. Mostly because of this, I turn to
Conner and say, "Will it bother you if I kiss you now?" I ask. He blushes but
shakes his head.

I lean over and offer him a delicate kiss right on the lips. On screen my father
yells, "No tongue! No tongue!" I immediately laugh, breaking off my kiss with
Conner. My dad had clearly tried to time that exactly right, and given the lag
he did a pretty good job.

"Dad!" I protest. Conner wipes his lips; I'd inadvertently spit all over him.

"Now I see where you get it," he laughs.

Once the whole kissing prank has run its course, my dad proclaiming triumph, my
mom asks him to settle down and then turns to the camera. "So, Conner honey" –
yes, Conner had apparently been elevated to the status of "honey" – "what about
family? I would love to get in touch with your parents...just to say hello. If
you don't mind, of course."

My smile immediately fades, and I wonder about the wisdom of introducing Conner
to my parents like this. I didn't really think about this topic coming up.
Conner shifts in his seat, but when he replies he doesn't sound at all
uncomfortable.

"Actually, my parents didn't make it out," he says, then explaining a little
about his mother's medical condition, and about how he didn't have any family
anymore.

On screen my parents' smiles fade and my mother looks regretful about her
inquiry. "Oh...honey...I'm so sorry to hear that. I should have thought before
asking." She reaches out so that her forearm obstructs a great deal of the
frame. I think she's stroking the image of Conner's face on the screen.

When she sits back, she says, "Dear, I hope it doesn't bother you for me to say
this...I know we've only just met. But no matter what, I don't want you to ever
feel like an orphan. I know you're a grown man, so if this is offensive just
chalk it up to a mother's sentimentality, but Mark and I, well, being with Devon
makes you a part of the family...both now, and in the future, no matter how long
you may be dating my son."

"And let's face it," my dad says, joking to cut down on the seriousness, "he's
bound to screw it up eventually." And then he adds, probably partially due to my
mother’s elbow in his ribs, "But in all seriousness...Devon, we're very happy to
hear that you have someone...and Conner, that does make you a part of the family
– if you want us, that is."

My mom nods. “Yes...well this is great...we called to talk to one son, and if
it’s okay with Conner I guess we can tell people we have two now.”

"I'd like that," Conner immediately says. "I...I don't really know what to say.
I knew that you were great parents...Devon talks about you all the time. But I
didn't expect you to be so...I don't know what." He does a cute little shuffle
in his seat and then says, "Sorry, meeting the parents and all. Medical exams,
no problem. Meeting Devon's mom and dad...well, at least if I have a heart
attack I can treat myself."

We talk a little more about various things, the conversation lighter now. But
then, all too soon, my dad says the remaining time grows short.

"But we'll start saving up our communication credits immediately," my mom says.
"And hopefully we'll be in range again soon. Oh, but it's never enough is it?
It's been so good to see you and talk to you...my baby all grown up...eat well,
and be safe."

My mom is tearing up, and I realize how hard this is for her...saying goodbye.
Then I think of something. "Wait! Hopefully this won't cut off, and I'll talk
fast. I hope I've always been appreciative of you, but if I haven't shown it
enough – thank you for being so cool. You know...about me being gay and all.
When I figured it out...I knew you'd be good about it, but I didn't realize how
much it would mean...how awesome it is to have parents like you. I
mean...thanks...I guess that's what I want to say."

After the lag, my mom replies, "Oh, Devon. We have about twenty seconds left, so
by the time you get this we'll have already hung up. We both love you very much,
and the fact that you've found someone to love is wonderful. You are the man we
always wanted you to be...oh no, time is almost out...we love you very much.
Email us later...we want to hear all about Conner...be safe...be good to each
other..."

And then the screen goes back to a blank blue slate. I stare at the display,
feeling a sense of loss that the call is over. Conner turns away from me,
picking up the jacket he'd shed while we were waiting earlier. From his body
language I can tell something is wrong. My dad was a little...maybe he's
uncomfortable about everything.

"Conner, I'm really sorry about making you do that," I say. "I mean...thanks. I
know it was a big deal for you. I really appreciate it. I'm sorry if it made you
uncomfortable."

He turns around, and I discover that the real reason he'd turned his back to me
was because he's started crying, two tear tracks staining his cheeks. "I'm
sorry," he says, "I'm trying not to be overly emotional. It's just...it
feels...it feels really good to have family again."

And that gets me teary too. I cross the room, first hugging my orphaned
boyfriend and then kissing him passionately, tasting the salt of his tears and
trying to tell him with a kiss that he'll never, ever be alone again.

Speaking with my parents...wow. It was an early birthday gift, that was for
sure. I feel...I feel really light and fluttery, despite the happy tears I’m
sharing with my boyfriend. I feel...great. In a situation like this, there’s
really only one thing to do.

“Conner? Can we go upstairs and make love for like ten hours?” I ask, hopeful.

Conner wraps his arms around me and then picks me up, spinning me and making me
laugh in surprise. And then he eagerly takes me by the hand, leading my
upstairs, just where I wanted to go.

* * * * *

The following morning Conner drags my ass out of bed. Why is he always dragging
it so early in the morning, and not pounding it?

“You’d think you’d have the courtesy to do at least a little pounding,” I
grumble sleepily.

He laughs. “Half the time I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,
know that?”

“Mrftf mrmmm,” I reply.

Once he manages to get me up and dressed for yoga, we’re off, but not before
stopping by the rear observation deck to see EV1985.

I’m leaning on the railway next to the moving sidewalk, trying not to fall
asleep on my feet. “Aren’t you ever going to get bored of looking at a little
black dot on a black background?” I ask. And then we enter the deck. “Holy
shit!” I exclaim.

The deck is almost completely packed with people – and it’s barely six in the
morning. There’s no need to question why, though. The massive windows facing out
into space are almost completely filled with the view of the approaching vessel,
the ship no longer a little dot in the sky but a massive obstruction. I can see
lights blinking on the hull here and there, probably turned on now that it’s
drawing so close to us. I’m suddenly dizzy, my brain a little uncertain whether
I should be falling down toward the other ship or whether it might be careening
slowly into us.

There is a shared sense of awe amongst everyone looking out at the other ship.
It’s an amazing thing...we’re traveling through space so fast, very close to the
speed of light. EV1985 is too, going about a kilometer per hour faster than us.
If I didn’t know better, though, I’d say both ships were sitting virtually
still.

“It’s huge,” I say of the other vessel.

“Way bigger than this ship,” Conner agrees. “They should be docking this
afternoon sometime.”

I whistle. “Guess who’s coming to dinner.”

To be continued.

Author’s End Notes:

Soundtrack: If you check on the group site, I’ve associated a song with each
chapter. Putting them together forms a soundtrack to the story. In fact, I
format the files on the group site so that you can play them on an iPod (or
whatever) as a playlist, complete with sexy album art and everything. Check it
out. The song for 18 is The Way We Get By by Spoon. Club chapters have a certain
energy in my mind, and I really liked how this song fit with the other club
chapter songs (chapters 7, 9 and 14).

The paint mess in the club room is the result of the events detailed in Chapter
17b, a side story entitled Splat! Coming soon to the side stories section.

Zane references Pinky and the Brain before the summit.

The underwear described is almost always based on real designs, just for fun.
You can see photos in the underwear folder in the photo section in the group.
Usually I use freshpair.com or internationaljock.com to find samples. In this
chapter, the boys are dressed in: